


I'm Gonna Stand By You

by Mistressaq



Series: Kamjie [4]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, F/F, Fluff, Halloween Costumes, Hurt/Comfort, Pregnancy, Referenced Past Branjie, See Notes for TW info, Smut, all non-kamjie ships are background
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27536623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistressaq/pseuds/Mistressaq
Summary: It's been almost a decade of trying for Kameron and Vanessa, and they're down to Kameron's last two eggs. After what happened last time, Vanessa agrees to get implanted along with Kameron. This time, one of themhasto get pregnant.But when test day comes, they're in for a very happy surprise.
Relationships: Jackie Cox/Jan Sport, Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova, Vanessa Vanjie Mateo/Kameron Michaels
Series: Kamjie [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816390
Comments: 12
Kudos: 11





	1. Meet The Parents

**Author's Note:**

> Series title from the Rachel Platten song which is very much these characters
> 
> _Even if we're breaking down, we can find a way to break through  
>  Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you  
> Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you _

Vanjie and Kam wake up in bed together all groggy. Their hands find each other. After awhile, Vanessa groans and pulls away to get up and walk towards the bathroom. When the light in the ensuite turns on, Kam bolts upright. “Ness?”

“Yeah?”

Kameron flings the covers off and starts running to the bathroom. “Vanessa stop peeing!”

Kameron makes it through the open door in time to hear Vanessa’s flow come to a tinkling pause. Kam whips open the cabinet under the sink. 

“Why?” Is all a half-asleep Vanessa can manage.

Kameron grabs a box and rips open the side. She yanks out a plastic stick and tells Vanessa to catch. “It’s test day.”

Vanessa looks down at the pregnancy test. “Oh.”

Kameron is in less of a hurry pulling out a second box. “You can continue.”

Vanessa relaxes, continues peeing, holds the open end of the test under her stream. Kameron looks back and gives a small chuckle. “That’s probably good enough, babe, you don’t gotta hold it under there for the whole time.”

Vanessa pulls the stick back up and rests it flat on her thigh. “Well shit, you know I ain’t ever done this before.”

Kameron smiles. “And I have. Many, many times.” She lifts herself up to sit on the counter, kicking her feet in midair. Vanessa is still peeing. Kameron stares at her own feet. She likes to keep some modicum of privacy after all these years of marriage. “I’m always amazed by how much pee you can store in that tiny body.”

Vanessa scoffs. “Rude! Not my fault you got the bladder of a four year old!”

“I  _ can _ hold it in, I just  _ prefer  _ not to.”

“Mmmhmmm.” Vanessa folds a few sheets of toilet paper and sets her test stick on the back of the toilet. “Where’s this ‘Oh I can hold it’ when we do our next road trip to Vegas, huh?”

Vanessa stands back up and Kameron slides off the counter. “I’d never had Cold Brew coffee before and you  _ know _ that!” She points her clean test stick accusingly.

Vanessa tosses her unbrushed hair over her shoulder, a smug smile on her face. “Throne’s all yours, babe.”

Kameron takes Vanessa’s place and manages to start peeing. She’d been in this position so many times before. Sometimes Vanessa had been there when she took the test, sometimes she was only there for the result. For once, they are actually sharing this experience. As much as it makes her kinda nervous, Kameron is grateful. 

She pops the cap on the wet end of her stick and reaches around to set it beside Vanessa’s on the tank, butterflies beating their wings in her empty stomach. Kameron walks over to the sink, glancing at her wife as she washes her hands. “Well we’re not going back to sleep after that,” she says. 

Vanessa shakes her head in agreement.

Kameron grabs the hand towel. “So what'd ya say we make it a waffle morning?”

“Well that’ll take at least five minutes.” Vanessa raises an eyebrow, the tiny hairs out of whack from sleeping on her side all night. 

Kameron licks her thumb and reaches out to smooth them into place. “Results will still be there when we’re done.”

Vanessa grabs ingredients from the refrigerator while Kameron pulls out the trusty waffle iron. Their chatter is a little stilted, and though they try, they are unable to distract themselves from the anticipation at hand. Vanessa stares at nothing while holding the automatic hand mixer in the waffle batter, somehow still able to think over the grinding of the machine. Behind her, she feels Kameron’s presence as she cuts up fruit. She’s the one keeping an eye on the clock, despite being half lost in thought herself. When Vanessa has been beating for two minutes, she nudges her wife to tell her she’s done. 

Vanessa joins Kameron in prepping fruit salad while they wait on the waffle iron. Though they can hear each other now, they stay mostly silent. Not that it’s uncommon for them to have a relaxed kind of quiet, especially early in the day, but this morning their silence is almost heavy. The energy undercutting their morning activities gets to Vanessa first, as Kameron notices her wife bouncing on her toes, shaking her leg, spinning and sliding around on the kitchen tile on her bare feet. Kameron can’t help but smile at her antics and how quickly Vanessa is losing to the agony of anticipation. 

The waffle iron beeps. Kameron goes to take their breakfast out of the metallic red kitchen appliance at the same moment Vanessa announces she can’t take the waiting anymore, and vanishes. 

“Ookay,” Kameron sings, noncommittal. She has to bite down on the inside of her cheeks to contain the secondhand excitement she’s getting off of Vanessa.

“Hey, Kam?” Vanessa comes back with both tests in hand, looking confused as she glances between them. “Wait how do we tell which one’s mine and which one’s yours?” She turns the tests around so Kameron can see, showing they’re both positive. 

Kameron has to examine each one closely. She looks back up at her wife. “No.”

“Yeah.”

Kameron shakes her head, a smirk pulling at her cheek. “No way.”

“I mean I’m no scientist—“

Kameron basically assaults Vanessa with a surprise hug. 

Vanessa lets out a shriek. “DAMN! You don't gotta squeeze the kid outta me. Thought you was happy!”

“I am!!!!” Wetness is already gathering at the corners of Kameron’s eyes. “I just can't believe this. We’re  _ both _ pregnant, what the fuck??”

Vanessa chuckles, shrugging. 

“This doesn’t happen.” Kameron shakes her head, her smile immutable. She motions toward Vanessa. “IVF  _ never _ works on the first try!”

Vanessa holds out her arms, quirking her lips to the side. “I dunno what to tell you, mama. We been blessed this time ‘round” 

Now when Kameron grabs Vanessa’s face to crush their lips together, Vanessa sees it coming, and has the foresight to place her hands on Kam’s jaw, softening the blow and retaining some control. Kameron pulls back slightly, only to go back in again and again, making cheesy smooching sounds. It doesn’t take long for the pair to devolve into giggles. They can barely even eat their extravagant breakfast. They chat like lovesick teenagers who’ve been separated for a month, finally able to catch up on everything they’d missed. 

Vanessa loves to see it. She feels her wife feeding off of her own positivity. Kameron had gotten this news what must have been a dozen times, and the later on it got, the less optimistic she had seemed. Last time, Vanessa had to actually psych Kam up to _get_ her excited.

When they had their appointment, both Kameron and Vanessa had scheduled half days off for Test Day. Kameron liked to have the morning to process whatever the result was. And today, that meant she and her beautiful wife got to cook breakfast together, barely eat it, and hand-wash the dishes with no time crunch whatsoever. Vanessa hated the feeling of slimy food leftovers on her fingers, and hated being sticky more than anything else, so long ago Kameron had volunteered as the dedicated washer, while Vanessa dried and put away plates, cups, and silverware. Kameron doesn’t bother suppressing a laugh when Vanessa again fails to remember where the big cooking utensils go in her own kitchen. “Spatulas go with the serving spoons,” she lightly corrects. “First drawer, right side of the stove.”

Vanessa scoffs. “Girl, since when?”

“Since always.”  


Her wife shakes the still-damp spatula in the air. A droplet of water flicks onto the floor. “Nah, I distink-- dis stink? I specifically remember the clay pitcher, jar, thing, all the thingies go in.”

“That was at the old house, babe.” Kameron motions with an almost-clean dish. 

“So I was right!” Vanessa shrieks. In her characteristic way. “You said they been in the drawer for forever but now you’re like ‘oh Vanjie, you’re so right and perfect’!”

Kameron giggles low in her throat. “Well you  _ are _ right, I  _ do _ think that.”

Vanessa tucks her chin into her shoulder, thrusting her hip out from the side. A beat passes between them and Kameron turns back to the dishes. She feels Vanessa sneaking up behind her to curl her arms across Kameron’s chest. Vanessa’s breath is against Kameron’s ear and she can’t hide the goosebumps that rise up because of it. “What you say to lettin’ them dishes soak awhile?” she murmurs.

“Oh?” Kameron lifts an eyebrow and turns only her face in response, her hands still working at syrup residue. “And why would we do that?” she teases.

Kameron knows Vanessa’s lip is curling without even seeing it. She continues to feign innocence, forcing her lover to come up with a reason for them to abandon their chores. 

Vanessa chews her lip, trying to rack her brain for an excuse. “That new shower gel!” she says. “The stuff Kiki’s ex sent her trynna win her back. She didn’t want it so she gave it to us?” She plays with the raw ends of Kameron’s hair. “We ain’t got to try it yet.”

Kameron hums noncommittally, keeping up the demure act. Vanessa, having had enough teasing, grunts. She reaches forward, grabs Kameron’s hands out of the sink and wipes them on her own shirt. Her wife takes advantage of the placement and slots her fingers in a V to push Vanessa’s tits up. Vanessa shoots her a look. Kameron smiles in cheery denial. 

“Alright,” Vanessa growls, and pulls her wife down into a kiss. 

Kameron surrenders her pretense, having gotten exactly what she wanted.

It’s the Friday before a three-day weekend and Vanjie has cleared off her desk so she can sit on top of it and stare at the inspiration wall in the back of the room. She’s the project manager and the opportunity to have a solo office has come up numerous times, but Vanessa jives best off the energy of other people. Even though her teachers and supervisors over the years complained that she lacked focus, Vanessa actually has the hardest time getting work done when she’s alone. When she’s surrounded by Silky, Ra’Jah, and Akeria and they’re all working on different aspects of the same thing, Vanessa finds hours and hours passing that she doesn’t notice, except for the change in light outside the windows. 

Vanessa is hyperfocused on the visualization board and checking off what is in motion and what isn’t, walking around the environment in her mind as she asks herself what’s missing, what she’s forgetting, when she gets a tap on her arm. Vanessa flinches, snapped back to the present. A’Keria and Silky have their purses over their shoulders. They’re out of their chairs, ready to leave for the day.

A’Keria tilts her head. “So Vanj, you coming out with us tonight?”

Vanessa is about to nod ‘of course’ before she very suddenly remembers that she Very Much is Not Allowed to drink for the next nine months. “Uh,” she pauses. “Nah.”

“You feelin’ okay girl?” Silky arches a brow. “You ain’t passed up a girls night since you got the stomach flu back in what, March?”

“Im feelin’ fine.” Vanessa hunches over slightly, averting her gaze. “Just uh, you know, on a cleanse.”

And she would have gotten away with it, if A’Keria wasn’t so damn perceptive. 

“It worked didn't it?”

Vanessa locks eyes with her friend of so many years, and within seconds, she knows she’s fucked up. Because whatever A’Keria saw in her eyes, just confirmed it. 

“What worked?” Silky glances from one friend to another, missing the unspoken examination. 

A’Keria doesn’t take her eyes off of Vanessa as she exposits for Silky. “Couple weeks ago Kam and Vanjie went to the doctor and both got implanted. Congratulations, Vanessa, you’re gonna be a great mom.” 

Silky is overtaken by a mix of excitement and betrayal. “Well Bitch!” She smacks Vanessa’s hand away from where she was trying to conceal her guilty expression. “When were you gonna tell us you was pregnat?!!

Vanessa throws up her hands in exasperation. She keeps her voice to a loud whisper. “We only found out this week, we not supposed to be telllin’ anyone yet!”

Akeria holds up a hand. “Wait  _ ‘we’? _ So what’s the tea, did it work for both of you?”

Vanessa presses her lips together and stares at the floor, swiveling her whole body so she doesn’t have to look at her friends. It’s no use, she knows. Kiki and Silky can read the truth off her soul. She’s beset by hugs and congratulations and as much as Vanessa tries to suppress it, her friends are just bringing back that giddiness she and Kameron shared a few days ago. Vanessa is pretty bad at trying to keep any secret, but one that makes her this happy was going to be impossible to hide from her friends for long. Which might be why Kameron isn’t upset when Vanessa admits the cat is out of the bag that evening. 

“I know we agreed to wait a week or so, and I need you to know I didn’t say shit,” Vanessa defends against Kameron’s side-eye at dinner. “In my defense, Kiki Nancy Drew’d my ass.”

Kameron’s sudden laughter comes out in a shriek. Vanessa jolts, relaxing immediately after seeing her wife’s expression. 

“That’s so in character for her I can’t even be mad,” Kameron cackles.

“She Nancy Drew’d both our asses actually,” Vanessa admits. “Damn bitch pays attention to shit people say, she knew we went to the doctor together and everything.”

“Well,” Kameron sighs, a smile on her face. “That’s two less people we have to tell when the time comes.”

Vanessa agrees, and a few moment of peace pass over dinner. Then a thought strikes Vanessa. “Wait, shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

Vanessa looks sadly at Kameron. “We gotta tell our moms.”

Kameron’s shoulders fall. “Oh, Anabelle’s gonna be  _ pissed _ to find out she wasn’t the first to know.”

Vanessa grabs her phone. “She’s usually up now, plus she sleeps light anyways.”

“Wait, you’re calling her right  _ now?” _   


Vanessa finds her mom’s contact and hits the green button. Looking at Kameron, she says “I’m not gonna be able to sleep if I’m thinkin' about how I’m gonna tell her.” 

Kameron nods and scoots closer. They wait the agonizing five rings that it takes for Kameron’s mother-in-law to pick up. 

“Mami?” Vanessa can barely cage her excitement.

“Vanessa! How are you,  _ me linda? _ Everything okay?” 

Annabel's tone is kind and soothing, almost like she’s preparing to cushion Vanessa’s distress. It’s not that Vanessa never calls her mom, or that she’s never called her at night, but usually when she calls at night it’s not because of good news. It’s usually one kind of meltdown or another. Argument with Kameron, stress at work, thinking too much… 

Tonight she gets to change that. Vanessa’s heart skips a beat and a pod of happy butterflies take off in her stomach. “I’m good, Mami, I’m really good. We both are. Kameron’s here by the way.”

Kameron projects her voice so the microphone will pick it up. “Hey Anna how’s Florida?”

“It’s awful, darling, I can’t wait to be back in New York,” Annabel says, her tone more playful than truly unhappy. 

Kameron laughs. “You said that back in February, that New York was the worst and you couldn’t wait to go home to Florida!”

“I have  _ no idea _ what you’re talking about,” Annabel chastises. “I don’t know  _ where _ you’d hear such a thing!” 

Kameron and Vanessa crack up; they can practically hear Annabel’s lifted nose and hair flip through her crystal clear connection. 

“Anyway that’s my side of the country,” Annabel transitions. “What’s the news from California?”

Vanessa and Kameron share an excited glance. They rise to their feet, unable to give the happy news sitting down. “Ah, we do actually have news to share with you--”

Annabel interjects as would be expected. “Oooh Kameron congratulations I wish you a smooth and healthy pregnancy.” 

Kameron covers her laugh with a cough and places a hand between Vanessa's shoulders. “Thank you, Annabel. I do appreciate that, I could use all the prayers and well wishes I can get.” She looks to her wife. “But actually that’s not all.”

Vanessa bites her lip. Nervous, bursting with joy, but also starting to think she can’t say it after all. She hesitates for long enough that Annabel begs the question. “No? What else is there? A promotion, a big donation…?”

“We’rebothpregnant--” Vanessa blurts. She clutches her fists in front of her mouth, bouncing on her feet. 

A half second of silence passes before Annabel speaks again. “Wait-- I’m sorry,  _ mija, _ can you repeat that? What was that you said?”

Vanessa looks to Kameron, who is beaming ear to ear. Vanessa pleads with her eyes for Kameron to take over. She’s gonna scream it if she opens her mouth. She hands Kameron the phone and Kameron accepts. “Oh, Vanessa’s having a hard time with words at the moment, but actually both of us are expecting. We’re  _ both _ pregnant, how wild is that?”

Blessedly, Annabel has the good sense to walk away from the phone when she lets out a scream of joy. If only that sense had passed down to her daughter…

Vanessa’s signature happy scream joins in harmony, and Kameron bends over laughing, cupping her hand over her ear. 

“When did you find out??” Annabel shouts over the line. 

“Oh, three days ago--”

_ “Legit _ four days ago.” Vanessa talks over Kameron, her voice easily picked up thanks to its volume. 

Annabel lets out a quieter shriek of excitement. “I’m so happy for both of you, that’s so exciting! Who else knows?”

Vanessa cringes. Kameron explains for her. “Oh, well Nessa’s friends figured it out today, actually. And then we were like ‘well it’s not right that our moms don’t even know yet’!”

“Listen, Vanessa cannot keep a secret to save her life,” says Annabel. “I’m not upset I wasn’t the first to know, because when she is keeping something, it reads all on her face and the secret is out without her ever having to open her mouth.”

Kameron cackles, gasping for air and fanning her reddening face. Vanessa laughs as well, pointing emphatically. “Tea!” She inhales loudly, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “Oh, I can’t even be mad at that, shit.”

Annabel congratulates them again, then says “Now don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anybody else right now,  _ I _ can keep a secret a couple weeks more.”

“Thank you,” says Kameron over another laugh. “We appreciate it.”

“And I’m not gonna say anything but just, keep in mind… Annabel is a beautiful name. Just putting that out there!”

Vanessa shakes her head, smiling. “Aight ma, we’ll keep that in mind.”

They say their goodbyes and goodnights. Having hung up, Vanessa and Kameron exchange another meaningful look. “That went really well,” says Kameron.

Vanessa nods. “When we gonna tell your mom? Don’t The Vickster get up at three am?”

“Four, but yeah.” Kameron shrugs. “We can call her tomorrow mornin’. Give her somethin’ to brag about at church.”

Vanessa smiles, getting a kick out of Kameron’s Tennessee accent returning when talking about her mom. It comes back all the way when she talks to her on the phone. Vanessa has asked before for Kameron to talk dirty to her in her original accent, but it doesn’t work. It comes out sounding forced and Kameron gets all awkward. Since Kameron stopped drinking at the beginning of their fertility journey, Vanessa doesn't even get to hear her wife’s accent when she’s drunk anymore. Needless to say, she’s looking forward to tomorrow.

The first time Vanessa brought Kameron home to Tampa to meet her family, she’d admittedly been a little nervous. Mostly Kameron was fearful of the language barrier leaving her out of conversation-- not so much that Vanessa’s family wouldn’t speak English at all, and it’s not like Kameron lacks passing knowledge of Spanish. She knows enough Spanish to work in California and communicate on the most basic level. But native speakers talk so  _ fast. _ As it is, when Vanessa gets excited, Kameron has trouble keeping up with her in  _ English. _

But still, the fact that Vanessa wanted Kameron to meet her mom was big. They’ve been dating over a year and Kameron hasn’t been introduced to a girlfriend’s parents since college -- except Jamie, but they just ran into Jamie’s mom while they were out one day, it’s not like she said ‘hey Kam I see this relationship going somewhere I want you to meet my mom.’ This time she’s actually getting on a plane with Vanessa -- first time for that too, travelling together -- for the specific purpose of going to Florida to meet her mom in person. She’s going to see where her girlfriend grew up, what her family is like. The thought sent butterflies to Kameron’s stomach. She reached for Vanessa’s hand over the armrest and squeezed.

Vanessa looked up. “You scared o’ flyin’, Mami?” 

“Oh, no it’s not that.” Kameron blushed. “But I do have Xanax for the next flight, just FYI in case you need to wake me up when we land.”

“Oh so you a prescription drug ho.” Vanessa wiggled her eyebrows. “Knew you had a vice somewhere.” 

Kameron rolled her eyes but chuckled. “My vice: using a controlled substance for its intended purpose as prescribed by my primary healthcare provider.” She held up her fists. “Cuff me, officer, I know my crime.”

The first flight was short enough that Kameron could get by reading magazines, a novel, listening to podcasts, and sipping the mini cup of diet coke the air hostess brings. At one point, Vanessa’s lids started to drag and she rested her head on Kameron’s shoulder. It was all she could do to try and take a commemorative selfie without her girlfriend noticing. 

She failed. 

“Whatchu doin’?” Vanessa grumbled.

“I…” Kameron pursed her lips. “You looked cute. I wanted a picture.”

Vanessa stared at her skeptically for another minute before shrugging. Whatever, go for it.” She snuggled back into Kameron’s shoulder and grabbed her arm to cuddle, closing her eyes once again and sighing. 

When they touched down in Denver, Kameron and Vanessa realized their next flight was gonna board in twenty minutes on the other side of the airport. The women slung their carry-on bags over their shoulders, joined hands, and took off running. Despite the fact that Kameron had almost a foot on her girlfriend and worked out regularly, Vanessa had a surprising amount of energy stored away in her little body. Kameron actually had to rely on her training to keep up. They made it to the gate in time. Six hours and one Xanax nap later, Kameron woke up in Tampa. 

Vanessa’s sister-in-law Jiuliana met them at the airport with two small boys, the shorter of whom was holding a handmade sign with crowded letters saying “welcome home auntie nessa”. The closer they got, Kameron noticed that hastily and in a different color, someone had added an ‘s’ after ‘auntie’ and squeezed in a plus sign with her own name below Vanessa’s. It was spelled wrong, but the boys looked about four and six, so she wasn’t gonna fault them for that. Plus, the sight of it all was so heartwarming Kameron thought she might just die on that escalator. When the boy holding the sign locked eyes with Vanessa, he let out a scream and hurled his body at the base of the moving staircase as fast as his legs could carry him. His older brother followed close behind, yelling “Auntie Nessa you’re home!!”

Vanessa descended the last few moving steps to catch the boy before he started running up the escalator. He launched himself into her arms and Kameron stepped down as well, just out of caution in case Vanessa couldn’t correct his force in time. But of course her amazing girlfriend steadied herself with grace and quickly stepped out of the flow of traffic once they reached the ground.  _ “Angel, niño, _ you’re so fast now! And your brother’s gotten so big --  _ Gabriel, ven aquí, _ stinker!”

Kameron followed her girlfriend like a tall ginger shadow, basking in the secondhand joy of Vanessa’s reunion. She noticed the boys’ mother waddling over, baby number three a robust bun in the oven. She smiled at Kameron as she approached. “You must be Kameron, I’m Jiulianna.”

“Good to meet you, Jiulianna. Am I saying that right?” she checked. The woman nodded. “I’m just, excited to meet the whole family.”

“And we’re excited to meet you.” Jiulianna gestured toward her sons crowding around their aunt. “You’ve met Gabriel and Angel. Boys, say hello.”

They obeyed their mother only in as much as they looked at Kameron, said hi, and immediately went back to occupying Vanessa. 

Kameron smiled. “Looks like I’ve got some competition.”

“You won’t be ignored for long,” cautioned Jiulianna. “Trust me: The family’s preparing to interrogate you. Little Miss Vanjie hasn’t brought anybody home since she moved to Cali.”

“Miss what’s-that?” Kameron glanced between Vanessa and her sister-in-law. “I’m sorry? Jiulianna, I missed that.”

“Call me Jules -- and it’s a nickname we have for Vanessa.” She leaned around Kameron to give her sister a teasing stare. “Which for some reason she doesn’t like anymore even though she’s the one who came up with it!”

Kameron wouldn’t get the full story of her girlfriend’s nickname until later that evening. Jules led them to her car, a fair walk but Kameron found it refreshing after five hours sitting in stale airplane air. It was mid-afternoon in March in Florida and Kameron finally felt properly awake. On the way, the boys made Vanessa promise she’ll sit with them in the back, and Kameron was relieved. She’d expected to be relegated to the third-wheel-non-family-member in a lonely backseat. Once she’d gotten to know Jules, she was more than comfortable sitting up front and chatting on the way to Vanessa’s mom’s house. 

“Dinner won’t be ‘til after six, Annabel says. Did you guys eat lunch or you want me to drive through someplace?”

“Um…” Kameron glanced back at Vanessa, completely occupied and didn’t hear the question. She answered for the both of them, citing their race to the gate and the fact that she’d been passed out cold the whole flight. “I don’t know actually-- hey Nessa did you eat on the plane?”

“Just them sad-ass peanuts, didn’t offer no real food.” Vanessa called from three feet behind.

“Okay then where d’you wanna drive through?” Jules asked. “Kameron, have you ever had Krystal?”

“Uh…” Kameron balked. “Look, I know I’m from a small town in Tennessee but I’ve never done hard drugs, honest.”

Vanessa blasted that foghorn scream of a laugh, Jules cracked up and so did the boys, though they of course didn’t know what they were laughing at. Come to find out, Krystal was the name of a fast food chain. Kameron didn’t realize how hungry she’d gotten until they were in the drive thru and she could smell the grease. Kameron sank her teeth into a burger with a square patty and drooled over piping hot fries coated in a layer of salt. It wasn’t even that good of fast food but everybody was hungry and it was food, so everybody ended up happy. 

Jules pulled onto the curb in front of a cute little house where there were children running around the yard, darting through sprinklers and squealing. Many had chocolate smudged on their ruddy cheeks and a couple kids were missing articles of clothing. “Sorry about them,” Jules said before they got out of the car. 

Kameron shook her head. “I have nieces and nephews. Can’t keep clothes on ‘em half the time, no matter how hard their parents try.” 

The younger of the boys, Gabriel, ran to join the others but Angel stuck close to Vanessa. Their mom ran -- well, as much as she could -- inside first, telling the family already gathered that they'd arrived while shouting “Baby on my bladder, pregnant woman comin’ through! Get out my way I  _ will _ pee on you!”

The first lady to come through the front door to greet them was a few inches taller than Vanessa and more than a few shades fairer. Her brown hair was tied back in a low ponytail, frizzed slightly from the humidity and her bright red lips smiled with excitement. 

“Mami!” Vanessa cried and opened her arms for her mother to run into. There was happy screaming and chattering -- in which language Kameron had no idea-- but after a few minutes Annabel looked over at Kameron. The first words her girlfriend’s mother ever said to her in person were: “My, you said this one was tall I didn’t think this tall  _ mija _ I’m sorry I’m not sure she’ll fit in my door!”

“I can hunch over, it’s all good.” Kameron took a step closer, already stooping to demonstrate. “I’m so excited to finally meet you in person.” 

“And we’re happy to have you here!” Annabel held out her arms. “We are a hugging family, you will learn.”

“Oh, mine is too, not an issue.” Kameron bent down to wrap her arms around Annabel’s ribs. The thought was mischievous, but hey, why not take advantage of the height discrepancy between them? Instead of releasing her, Kameron tightened her grip, lifting Vanessa’s mom several inches into the air, up to Kameron’s own level. She heard Annabel scream a laugh and Vanessa let out a similar sound. She put the woman down and Vanessa applauded. 

“Oh, wow,” breathed Annabel, steadying herself. “Thank you Kameron my back cracked did you hear?”

Kameron nodded. “Oh, I felt it.”

Annabel pressed a hand against her chest and patted Kameron’s arm. “I’ll have to have you do that again.” she leaned around Kameron to speak to her daughter. “Hey Vanessa keep this one. Nobody need a chiropractor while she’s around, I like her.”

Vanessa side stepped toward Kameron and laced their fingers together. “I like her too.”

Kameron calls Vanessa from the bedroom. “Lemme know when you’re ready, I’ll call Mom.” 

“Don’t wait up for me!” Vanessa yells back. “We both know Vicky only answers after the fifth ring!”

“True.” Kameron hits the ‘call’ button on her mother's contact. She presses speaker and cranks her phone’s volume to full. She counts the rings on her fingers as they come. 

“Hello?”

“Good mornin’ mama,” Kameron greets. “And how are you this fine Saturday?”

Vanessa bolts into the room. Kameron holds up four fingers. Vanessa mouths:  _ I was close!  _ Kameron nods. Vanessa crosses the space to wipe her wet hands on Kameron’s pajama pants. 

“Oh my Saturday is doin’ awlright,” Vicky’s voice crackles with the poor reception customary to the farmhouse. 

Kameron had flown out to help them move in three years ago when her mom and stepdad first bought the fixer-upper farmhouse. She had been excited to tell her mom she wasn’t able to lift the heaviest boxes. Vicky had praised the lord and pulled Kameron close. Said exactly what she needed to hear, bringing a tear to Kameron’s eye. The house smelled of dust and must and made her sneeze almost constantly. Even though she hadn't lifted hardly anything… and she tried to cope with her anxiety when her lower back started to hurt… by her last day back in Tennessee, she’d started to bleed. That was the pregnancy before Colin...

Vanessa chuckles and Kameron comes back to the present just in time to hear the fate of yet another chicken. “—crafty suckers jump right over that fence like it’s nothin’. Only sign they’ve been there‘s the feathers scattered ‘round.” Her mother's tone relaxes. “Anyhow we’re just sittin’ down for some coffee, how ‘bout you?” 

Vanessa presses the backs of her fingers against the small of Kameron’s back. “You know us Vicky,” says Vanessa, her voice raw with sleep. “We just gettin’ the morning started. And we got some nice surprising news this week. Didn’t we, Kam?”

Kameron feels her palms break out in sweat. How is it, with all the times she’s told her mom this exact news, that it can still be A Big Deal? “Ah, yeah, Nessa. D’you wanna tell ‘er about it?” Kameron wraps the length of her hair around her mouth, offering a pleading glance to her wife. 

“Well someone come out with it, I’m on the edge o’ my seat!” cries Vicky.

Vanessa rolls her eyes and takes the phone from Kameron. Kameron mouths a silent _ thank you _ .

Vanessa, absolute gem that she is, pulls no punches in her delivery. “Right, so I dunno if Kam clued you in that we was at the clinic a couple weeks back and got both of us inseminated or implanted or whatever and bing bang boom: we both havin’ ya grandbabies, congratulations.”

Vicky lets out a delighted gasp. “What a special blessing for the two of you, I am so glad to hear that. That really is great news.” 

Kameron pulls Vanessa close, kisses the crown of her head. Vicky congratulates them and eventually they hang up. This Saturday morning feels like no other. To Kameron, who has had her hopes dashed again and again, who has learned to withhold excitement for fear of it being ripped away… today feels uniquely bright.


	2. Struggle Bus Comin' Thru Beep Beep Mofos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So after the gym, Brooke was heading out on a date. You’ll never guess with who.”
> 
> Vanessa grits her teeth, tensing an amount so small only Kameron would notice. “I can’t imagine who.”
> 
> She’s had this petty issue with Kameron’s gym buddy since the beginning, as Vanessa and Brooke dated way way back in the Before Times. Vanessa doesn't love that her ex is so close to her wife, but in more of an I-never-wanna-hear-about-her-existence-again-but-keep-having-to-regardless way than an I’m-genuinely-threatened-that-my-wife-will-leave-me-for-her way. It’s not her place to say who Kam can or can’t hang out with, she’d just rather her exes drop off the face of the planet when they stopped dating. 
> 
> As a nicety, Kameron doesn’t talk about Brooke often. But this detail is just too good not to share!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly shorter chapter this time, but hey, BLH cameo! Past branjie reference! Mariah Balenciaga cameo! Some more pregnancy stuff! all this and more this week on "I'm Gonna Stand By You"!

On Wednesdays, Kameron hits the gym with Brooke, a dancer turned sales rep Kameron met years ago. She’s one of the first gay friends Kameron made in the city, and had been more than helpful introducing her to the local scene. Kameron has been an introvert pretty much as long as she can remember, and though Brooke insists she’s privately an introvert, she makes plenty of connections. When Kameron switched companies, she and Brooke continued to go to the gym together, and have done so ever since.

Today… Kam is off her game and Brooke can tell. She barely ate breakfast that morning, not feeling queasy per se, just odd. In their reps, she isn’t pushing herself the usual way; she’s actively holding back. While Brooke generously hydrates she eyes her up skeptically when Kameron only takes a swig of her water. “You sure you’re okay?” her friend prods.

Kameron fakes a smile and sighs. “Yeah, I’ve just, got stuff on my mind. Work. Family. You know how it gets.”

Brooke shrugs. As the hours progress, Kameron notices more things are bothering her. Other people in the room seem too close, their sweat towels wafting stale air into her personal bubble. She finds herself holding her breath, and not in the ways she should be. By the end of their two hours together, Kameron hasn’t even gotten the satisfaction of a good work-out and she feels… gross. It’s not even like she sweated that much today-- certainly hasn’t come close to exerting herself. 

At the end of their 2.5 hours, Kameron leads the way into the ladies locker room with relief. Brooke lets her long blonde hair down, whipping it side to side to get some air to her sweaty scalp. Mostly she and Kameron use the locker room to change, hypochondria convincing both women to shower in their own homes. 

Kameron opens her locker and pulls out her gym bag almost desperately, unzipping it and pulling out her fresh clothes rolled up next to her Laundry Bag. Which she opens. 

Kameron is immediately grateful she hadn’t taken her hair down, because when she pulled out her laundry bag, the acrid stank of weeks and weeks of unwashed gym clothes that had been building up in her dirty laundry bag hit her all at once. She dashes five steps away to the nearest stall, only making it to the toilet by half a second. The toast she’d eaten three hours ago must have been all digested, because all that comes up is the little water Brooke had peer pressured her into drinking and Kameron’s own spit. Her body doesn’t care that it isn’t being helpful and she continues to heave over the toilet as she feels someone come up behind her. Cool, wet fingers pat the back of her neck and dampen down the baby hairs that tickle at the edges of her face. 

Kameron flushes, sitting back on her heels. A skinny wad of toilet paper is held out to her in her peripheral vision. She takes it gratefully and wipes her face. “Thanks,” she breathes. “Came on really fast.” She spits and drops the wad in the bowl. 

Kameron breathes deeply for a minute. “I think I’m good.”

Brooke leads the way back over to the sinks, leans against the counter as Kameron rinses her mouth out. Her friend leaves momentarily to grab a pack of gum, immediately popping a tab in her own mouth before wordlessly holding one out to Kameron. The redhead takes the offer with minty relief. “Ugh. You’re a saint.”

“I know.” Brooke chews. “Congratulations, by the way.”

Kameron is about to ask what for, before she sees Brooke’s expression, and remembers why she just threw up in the first place. “Yeah.” Just thinking of it makes her nausea rise up again. She breathes in the mint and grips the countertop. She groans. “Uugh is it anywhere in my hair?”

“No,” says Brooke. “But, here, lemme--” She grabs some paper towel and swipes under Kameron’s chin. “Now you’re good.”

Kameron thanks her again and takes another deep breath. “I really just got gagged by the smell of my own BO.”

Brooke chuckles softly. “That’s pretty gross.”

“Yeah,” scoffs Kameron. She lets out a whine. “It’s all over me now I feel disgustiiiiing. And I refuse to shower here so I never bring sandals…”

“So use mine.” Brooke shrugs. She comes back with her bag slung over one shoulder and holding a pair of black rubber sandals. “I gotta bounce.”

Kameron takes them and goes over to the towel closet. “Where you off to?”

“Ah, gonna get ready for a hot date down at the roller rink.”

Kameron arches a brow and looks over her shoulder at her friend. “A  _ derby _ girl?”

“What, is that surprising?” Brooke swipes hair out of her face. 

Kameron shakes her head slightly, picturing the rink in her mind, the dingy lighting, weird smell, butch ladies in knee and shoulder pads… and tries to place Brooke there. It’s a stretch for her imagination. “Does she have a name?”

“Uh yeah,” Brooke searches the air. She snaps “Jamie! It’s Jamie.”

Kameron’s jaw slides onto the floor and she’s sure a train could drive right through her gaping mouth. 

“What, what?” Brooke scoffs. “D’you know her?”

Kameron forces her lips shut and nods, swallowing her shock. 

“Do you not approve?”

“No, no, go for it!” Kameron waves Brooke away. “You’re practically made for each other.”

“Uh oh, what does that mean?” Brooke tilts her head, an uncomfortable smile spreading across her lips. 

“Nothing, nothing!” Kameron insists, her pitch climbing. “Just. Do yourself a favor and ask for a recent STI test.”

Brooke rolls her eyes. “We don’t even know what direction this is gonna go. Anyway we can just do hand stuff.”

“Yeah, you say that now…” Kameron murmurs.

“What’s that?”

“Go! Go, get ready. Shit, shower, shave-- all that good stuff!” Brooke turns and heads out. Before the door shuts Kameron yells “I’ll get you your shoes back next time!”

“See you on the flip!” Brooke calls back.

The heavy door shuts and Kameron talks to her reflection. “Brooke and Jamie…” she shakes her head. She pulls out her phone to text Vanessa, then decides she’d rather see her wife’s reaction in person. Leaving Kameron almost alone in the locker room. She stares at the showers in the background of the mirror. “Guess it’s time...” 

She pulls off her socks and sneakers and steps into Brooke’s flip-flops. “Gay baby Jesus protect me.”

Kameron works from home the rest of the day, not really trusting her body after that episode at the gym. She makes ginger tea and takes an antacid and feels better. The shower at the gym had been helpful, even though she came home and washed her feet separately in the tub. She spreads creamy peanut butter over crackers for a snack as she gets her charts done. 

Vanessa comes home at half past five to see her lovely wife curled up on the couch eating popcorn. “Hey babe,” she greets, dropping her bags at the door and kicking off her shoes. 

“Welcome hoOome,” Kameron sings. She tilts the open bag toward Vanessa, anticipating the eager hand that lurches into the bag for a handful of salty puffy goodness. 

“Dinner o’ champions,” Vanessa grunts, stuffing the whole handful into her mouth.

Kameron levels with Vanessa that her nose has been extra sensitive and apologises that she wasn’t feeling up to cooking real food tonight. Vanessa waves her off. “You’re queasy, you’re queasy, aint gotta cook if its gonna make you ralph. I’ll heat up leftovers.”

Kameron tenses. “Which leftovers?”

“That Thai food from the other day.” Vanessa opens and closes the fridge. “You can hide in the bedroom, I ain't gonna be offended.”

Kameron leans over the back of the couch. “I think I’m feeling better. Anyway I feel like Thai food doesn't have the same pungent odor as Chinese.”

Vanessa heats up her leftovers and the women chat about their days. There’s a little bit of a smell, and it’s enough to keep Kameron in the living room, but not too bad. Kameron brings up her hot tea. “So after the gym, Brooke was heading out on a date. You’ll never guess with who.”

Vanessa grits her teeth, tensing an amount so small only Kameron would notice. “I can’t imagine who.” 

She’s had this petty issue with Kameron’s gym buddy since the beginning, as Vanessa and Brooke dated way way back in the Before Times. Vanessa doesn't love that her ex is so close to her wife, but in more of an I-never-wanna-hear-about-her-existence-again-but-keep-having-to-regardless way than an I’m-genuinely-threatened-that-my-wife-will-leave-me-for-her way. It’s not her place to say who Kam can or can’t hang out with, she’d just rather her exes drop off the face of the planet when they stopped dating. 

As a nicety, Kameron doesn’t talk about Brooke often. But this detail is just too good not to share! Kameron rounds the couch to tap eagerly on the back of a dining chair. “She’ll be meeting up with a particular Magenta Hawk with a side shave and commitment issues.”

Vanessa’s brows arch. “Oh wow.” She covers her mouth as she’s still chewing. Long ago Kameron had to train her not to talk with her mouth full, something Vanessa’s mom lauded her for, on account of she’d tried to instill table manners in her daughter for a decade to no avail. Vanessa swallows.  _ “Our _ Jamie?” 

Kameron nods.

“No way.”

“My hand to God.” Kameron laughs and puts her hand down. “Isn’t that wild? The two of them together must have done every bi and gay woman in the Bay Area.” 

Before Vanessa and Kameron ever started dating, both women had, at different times, dated the same woman, one Jamie Velazquez, captain of the Magenta Hawks derby team. Jamie is the kind of captivating, confident, charismatic woman who makes everyone she talks to feel like the only person in the room. Kameron met her when she was looking for physical activity and community in her new city, and they hit it off, until Kameron saw Jamie flirting it up with another girl. Jamie’s defense was ‘we never said we were exclusive’ which was true, but it was also fairly early on. Vanessa had the same experience, only she met Jamie at a bar while the Hawks were celebrating a big win. She was still bartending full time at that point, and Jamie had been one of exactly two patrons she’d slipped her number to in her whole career. 

When Vanessa and Kameron were first getting to know each other, they talked about their past relationships and found they’d made the same mistake with the same girl: assuming that what you want out of a relationship is automatically what the other person wants. Because clearly, Jamie never wanted a serious relationship, never pretended to. But Kameron, Vanessa, and an unknown lineup of others all got hurt by thinking ‘since this person is treating me so special, they must want something special, something more’. And without knowing it, when Vanessa was with Brooke, she was working off of the same assumption: that everybody wants a serious committed relationship.

“Is that what you want?” Kameron had asked. 

Vanessa got quiet and serious. “I want something real.”

“Good.” Kameron had felt her heart swell with hope as she tried to keep a calm, stoic facade. “‘Cause that's what I want too.”

Vanessa twirls rice noodles around her metal fork. “Wow. Jamie and Brooke Lynn. Either they gonna get along like fish in a pond or they hate each other by the end o’ this.”

“Either way,” Kameron smirks. “Can’t wait to see how this turns out.”

“Mm. And speakin’ of how things turn out,” Vanessa segues. “I had that lunch with Mariah today.”

Kameron lights up at the reference to the woman running their charity. After several years of miscarriages, Kameron had talked to Vanessa about funneling their grief and frustration into already existing children, since they couldn’t have a kid of their own yet. Together, they’d founded the Children's Inner City Enrichment Project (CICEP, pronounced like see-saw, but with a ‘sep’ on the end). They did a little office fundraiser at both of their workplaces, including a raffle, and they started a community garden to show the local kids how they can grow their own food with little space. Interacting with the kids and parents in their old neighborhood had soothed Kameron and Vanessa’s aching hearts. 

But, with both of them having full time jobs and not being rich enough for either of them to work on the nonprofit full time… a sacrifice had to be made. Vanessa’s mom pressed them to hire someone to manage the charity for them. They did another year-end fundraiser, after which Kameron crunched the numbers. She presented a bound and printed package to her co-founder. “We can afford this much a month out of the charity’s funds to pay one person to run it for us. You’re in charge of hiring.” 

Vanessa did have someone in mind. She’d recently reconnected with a girl she’d grown up with in New York, before the Mateos moved to Florida. Mariah was a couple years older, and she’d always been bossing other people around. Decades later, Vanessa had run into Mariah as another member of a convention planning committee. They’d gone out for drinks to catch up, where her old friend expressed distaste working for big, soulless corporations. At the same time, there wasn’t enough money to support herself full-time freelancing. 

After Kameron presented the offer, Vanessa reconnected with Mariah to double-check if the job would even be worth her while. Come to find out, Mariah would only be making three hundred dollars a month less if she worked for Kameron and Vanessa’s nonprofit, as opposed to her current job, which she hated. “Plus,” Vanessa reminded her friend, whose eyes were already saying ‘yes’. “The charity’s only a couple days a week, there’s still time to cram in a freelance gig planning weddings or whatever, to make up for that loss.”

Mariah’s one question was “When can I start?” 

Vanessa had felt guilty they couldn’t offer Mariah any benefits at first, but Kameron worked her accounting magic and figured out a way to get their beloved manager some healthcare (excluding vision and dental), a 401k and meager stock options for the company where Kameron does her accounting. It’s not the best package on the market when it comes to benefits, Mariah definitely deserves better, but it’s the best they can do at present. Whenever Vanessa brings it up, Mariah insists she’d rather have no dental insurance and feel fulfilled at her job, than be well-off but dead inside. And Vanessa can’t disagree with that.

Mariah had been running the nonprofit for close to five years now, doing a far superior job of it than Kameron or Vanessa could have done if they worked at it full time. She makes decisions for the kids with their input, as they elect council members for each age group. Most recently the kids voted that they wanted to learn how to do graffiti art, and Mariah had to find someone to teach them. A couple of the kids actually got pretty into it. This sparked an idea in Mariah concerning the next step for the charity.

Thus far, the address listed for CICEP has been Kameron’s mailing address, their house, even though meetings are usually held at a local park or other public hangout. But recently, Mariah, Vanessa and Kameron have been looking into cheap or low rent office spaces, to give the charity a home. Mariah agreed not to tell the kids about the office until something was set in stone, but Vanessa explains the brainstorm session they’d had over lunch with excitement. “We’d get to let these kids, most of ‘em never had their own room or any say in what they house looks like, let ‘em run free an’ decorate it how they want, let ‘em get that experience, that pride in their surroundings. That they walk in they see the blank, empty, dingy li’l space an’ six months, a year later it’s this beautiful bright thing with murals they did themselves. They get to learn budgeting, they ain’t had an allowance before, we got Mariah makin’ sure they don’t get carried away spendin’ it all on popcorn machines and Apple TVs--”

“But they still get what  _ they _ want!” Kameron exclaims. 

“While teachen’ ‘em  _ life skills _ you know their school ain’t teachin’ em!” Vanessa bounces on her toes. 

Kameron pushes down the urge to tell her wife not to jump up and down, because it’s not actually dangerous while pregnant, especially when she’s not being that rough and while she’s  _ so happy _ and carefree. She beams, Vanessa’s excitement contagious. “We better make sure they have a space to decorate then!” 

Vanessa fist pumps. “Yeah Kam you call that landlord and give him hell!” 

Kameron laughs. “Yes ma’am! I’ll get right on that.”

“You better!” Vanessa jogs by Kameron, heading in the opposite direction.

“Where are you going?” Kameron calls after her.

“I aint peed since I got home plus I had to shit all day!” Vanessa’s foghorn voice bounces off the walls.

Kameron cracks up laughing. She stares down Vanessa’s plate, debating whether to risk cleaning up or not. Kameron pulls her shirt over her nose, takes a deep breath through the fabric, smelling mostly clean laundry, and holds that breath as she clears Vanessa’s place. She tells herself she’ll take out the trash tonight as she dumps the stained paper products into the garbage can, knowing from experience the violent illness that arises from the smell of last night’s takeout after it’s been sitting in the trash for twelve hours. The memory alone sends phantom bile up her throat. 

Kameron shakes the memory out of her head and goes to open the side door, breathe the outside air. Not fresh air-- they do live in the suburbs now, so it’s cleaner than at their old house, but there’s still the familiar sting of smog at the back of Kameron’s throat. Opening her eyes, she sees it’s actually a lovely evening. She sits down on the Home Depot outdoor loveseat, eyes fixed on where the top of their backyard wall meets the sky. She’s still staring when she hears the screen door squeak open and closed again. Though there’s plenty of space on the bench, Vanessa claims Kameron’s lap, wrapping her arms around her wife’s neck as she follows Kameron’s eyeline. They watch the sky. And they don’t speak. Until the night chill sets in and the pair retire with some reluctance to their bedtime routine.

Kameron takes antacids daily. She’s having issues with reflux, plus the occasional oversensitivity to smell and that one bout of gym hurling. Vanessa doesn’t really feel that, but she’s avoiding acidic foods in favor of starches anyway. What she  _ is _ getting however, is headaches. Not terrible headaches, but just bad enough to be annoying. Bad enough that they get in the way, necessitating several doses of Tylenol a day.

“You feel queasy?” Kameron asks, walking by Vanessa as she stands guard over the toaster. 

“I mean not really,” says Vanessa. “I just really want toast, you get me?”

Kameron nods. “Save me a plain slice though, will ya?”

“O’course.” Vanessa saves her two. It’s not like some of the other times, where Kameron was violently ill for weeks on end. It’s more like she’s just always a little green. She had gotten even greener the one morning where Vanessa decided to brew herself her one allotted cup of coffee. Kameron had walked through the kitchen, smelled the coffee brewing, and dashed to the nearest sink. She hadn’t thrown up, but since when did the coffee smell so strong?? Vanessa ended up tossing it out anyway-- it smelled too bitter no matter how much sweetener she added. 

With the weird smells and Kameron’s reflux and how long it took Vanessa to get out of bed in the morning, their sex life is also down for the count. Having been together so long, and having gone through what they have, Kameron and Vanessa know their relationship can still function for weeks, even months without sex. Usually though, they tend toward doing it on date nights and in the morning, sometimes in the shower. That first week they could barely stand to be more than a foot away from each other. It wasn’t even sexual all the time, so much as it was happy, clingy, lovesick. Now though, they eat on opposite ends of the table for fear of how each other’s dinner will mess with the smells in the room. They sleep on their sides of the bed and don’t wake up intertwined. It’s almost like they’ve gone backwards: from loving spouses to barely tolerable roommates. 

But it won’t always be like this, and they know that. With every passing day, every passing week, they get closer to that magical point where all this grossness with the nausea and the fatigue and the headaches and the reflux will all subside. 

“Are your tits getting weird?” asks Vanessa from the mirror as Kameron brushes her teeth. “I feel like mine are gettin’ weird.”

“Weird like sore?” Kameron talks around a mouthful of unscented toothpaste (since their usual brand had started to give her a headache). “They get sore. And bigger.”

Vanessa uses one hand to gently lift her boob while she looks at her profile in the mirror. “My nipples hurt yesterday, like they been rubbin’ against my shirt like I wasn’t wearing a bra.”

“Welcome to pregnancy.” Kameron spits into the sink. “Maybe try a different bra, might need a softer cup.”

Vanessa pouts. “Think I can get away without one, just wear a big shirt instead?”

“I wouldn’t do  _ that.” _ Kameron gives her a Look. “No support’s probably gonna feel worse.”

Vanessa groans theatrically and stomps her foot. 

Kameron can’t help but smile. “Hey.”

Vanessa locks eyes with her. She raises a brow.

Kameron reaches out her hand. Vanessa takes two steps forward to intertwine her fingers with Kameron’s. Kameron tugs her close. Vanessa utters an ‘ow’ when Kameron squeezes her in a hug that compresses her sore tits. But she doesn’t pull away. Vanessa tucks herself into the familiar position she has established over the years, her cheekbone against Kameron’s collarbone, her hands at the small of Kameron’s back. 

Kameron pulls back just far enough so Vanessa will be able to turn her face up. Kameron leans down, connecting them in a kiss. It’s soft, and there’s nothing hungry or lusty about it. The kiss carries the safety and relief of returning home after time spent away. 

“Been awhile since we did that,” Vanessa murmurs. 

“I missed you.” Kameron tries to tuck Vanessa’s hair behind her ear, only for the stubborn strands to flick back into place. 

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t go anywhere.” Vanessa smiles, then lowers her voice. “I missed you too.”

They catch the last of the sunset, sitting together on the back porch as they watch the sky turn inky black. They’re at the very beginning of fall now, recently having flipped the calendar into October. It’s getting to be time to start thinking seriously about Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS when writing abt Jamie just know the author is imagining Stephanie Beatriz (aka Detective Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn-99). tell me she doesnt give off roller derby girl energy, I'll wait.


	3. Trick or Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kameron’s mouth widens, starting to laugh. 
> 
> “What? It’s a good idea, not too heavy makeup or costumes, pro’ly don't gotta buy much shit—“
> 
> “Nessa? Nessa.” Kameron takes both of her wife’s hands in her own, commanding attention. “We did Daphne and Velma, six years ago.”
> 
> Vanessa gets confused. “No? I don’t think we did.”
> 
> Kameron leans back. “You wouldn’t remember a lot about that Halloween. Yvie had a cauldron of Witch’s Brew. I swear half of that batch ended up in your stomach by the end of the night.” 
> 
> Vanessa stares in contemplation, racking her brain. 
> 
> “I mean, you had fun,” Kameron shrugs. “You lit up the energy of every room you went in. I still had a hell of a time keeping track of you.” She laughs. 
> 
> Vanessa turns. “C’mon, Mary. I wasn’t that bad.”
> 
> Kameron laughs. “I felt like that chicken in that Dr Seuss book. Walkin’ around like ‘are you my girlfrieeeeend?’ ‘Have you seen my girlfrieeeend?’ ‘Has anybody seen a little brown Velma running around?’”
> 
> Vanessa play-shoves Kameron. “You did not!”
> 
> “Maybe not in those exact words, but…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a long 'un for ya this week. Oh the fantasy of getting this out by halloween. but you know, every day can be halloween if you believe hard enough!

Vanessa hasn’t always appreciated Halloween. She’s always been in it for the candy, and dressing up can be fun, but she’s never been a part of the whole ‘being scared is fun’ thing. Her brothers would terrorize her every other day of the year anyway. In years past, she would usually go for the garbage lingerie ‘costumes’ like playboy bunny, sexy cat, whatever. One year Silky convinced her to come out even though she really didn’t want to. Kameron was away for work and something about going out and not being in a cutesy couples costume made Vanessa really sad. Nevertheless, Silky and A’Keria plied her with promises of themed cocktails and candy, so she resigned herself to furious last minute costume crafting. She wound a red scarf around her hair and pulled out a lingerie set and red latex thigh high boots to call herself sexy red riding hood. She’d actually gotten a bunch of compliments for ‘ingenuity’ and had to ask Kam what it meant when they video called that night. 

Together, she and Kam have been princesses Peach and Daisy, a (very petite) cop and a (straight-up ham-burgalar looking) robber, Batgirl and Lady Joker, even more she can’t remember. This year they go through a few ideas. Kameron suggests maybe Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, which might be cute, but they agree that neither of them really wants to cake on the facepaint over their already acne prone skin (thanks hormones). 

Vanessa thinks back on her childhood. “Power rangers?”

Kameron’s lips press into a thin line. “I feel like you have to keep the face covering on to have it work. I dunno how I feel about—“

Vanessa shakes her head. “Yeah, nah.”

“It was a cute idea,” Kameron reassures. 

Vanessa checks her group chat, where she’s put up the bat signal asking for ideas. “A’Keria says Power Puff Girls— aint there three o’ those?”

Kameron nods. “If she wants to be Buttercup with us she can. Blue looks cute on you and all but pink is my color, make no mistake.”

“Wait I wanted to be the green one tho.” She looks down. “And Kiki says ‘no way.’ see? She don't even wanna be the green one.”

“Green? Thats the one you want?” Kameron questions. “I mean we’d need a third any way you stretch it.” She looks up. “Brooke’s blonde, she might do it if we asked. Plus, she looks great in blue.”

“Nah, don’t bother.” Vanessa’s tone takes on a suddenly sharp edge. “The bitch pro’ly has a date. Bet you anything she gon get caught flirtin’ with a Lady Jack Sparrow while she and Jamie are dressed up as Rocket Power. What’s the next idea?”

Looking at her wife, Kameron sees her jaw is clenched and her arms are crossed tightly over her torso.Kameron suppresses a smile, finding it charming how Vanessa reacts whenever she brings up her gym buddy who also happens to be Vanessa’s ex. 

“Oh!” Vanessa perks up when she reads the next message from her group chat. “Silky said to do the nerd and the redhead from Scooby Doo!” She nudges Kameron in excitement. “We could do that!!”

Kameron’s mouth widens, starting to laugh. 

“What? It’s a good idea, not too heavy makeup or costumes, pro’ly don't gotta buy much shit—“

“Nessa? Nessa.” Kameron takes both of her wife’s hands in her own, commanding attention. “Nessa, look at me. We _did_ Daphne and Velma, six years ago.”

Vanessa gets confused. “No? I don’t think we did.”

Kameron leans back. “You wouldn’t remember a lot about that Halloween. Yvie had a cauldron of Witch’s Brew. I swear half of that batch ended up in your stomach by the end of the night.” 

Vanessa stares in contemplation, racking her brain for memory of a night involving Scooby Doo costumes and a cauldron of witch’s brew. 

“I mean, you had fun,” Kameron shrugs. “You lit up the energy of every room you went in. I still had a hell of a time keeping track of you.” She laughs. 

Vanessa turns. “C’mon, Mary. I wasn’t that bad.”

Kameron laughs. “I felt like that chicken in that Dr Seuss book. Walkin’ around talking to Hulk Hogans, Marios, mummies like ‘are you my girlfrieeeeend?’ ‘Have you seen my girlfrieeeend?’ ‘Has anybody seen a little brown Velma running around?’”

Vanessa play-shoves Kameron. “You did not!”

“Maybe not in those exact words, but…” The pair break off giggling and agree to continue brainstorming later.

During the week, Vanessa notices A’Keria humming a familiar bouncy tune. It’s actually kinda annoying, especially when Vanessa can’t put her finger on what song it is. Giving in to distraction, she whirls around and asks outright. “What _is_ that?”

A’Keria looks down at her hands. “Uh, budget breakdowns?”

Vanessa grunts and pushes the stack of papers out of her friend/coworker’s hands. “That _song_ you was just singing. It’s drivin’ me crazy.”

“Oh,” A’Keria says, blinking. “Sorry. My nephew watched that Disney Hercules movie back to back last night. It’s the lady’s song, Meg.. guh… With the black lady backup singers.”

Vanessa smacks her forehead. “THATS it! Hey that was a good song, not a bop, but you know, a jam.”

A’Keria smiles. “Is that what the kids are callin’ it these days?”

Vanessa rolls her eyes. “You’re the one who actually has a kid.”

A’Keria shrugs. “Yeah, mine’s not so into pop culture yet.” She reaches out and pokes Vanessa in her flat tummy. “And I won’t be the only one for long.”

A happy-excited shiver runs up Vanessa’s spine. She wraps her arms around herself. “Yeah.”

“How are things in that department, anyway?” prompts A’Keria. “You still sleepin’ on opposite sides o’ the bed?”

Vanessa shakes her head. “Nah, we got past that. Figured out what does and doesn't mess with us.”

“That’s good,” A’Keria says. “That’s really good. And it’s gettin’ to be October. Kam must be excited for that.”

“Uh… I mean we _are.”_ Vanessa picks at a loose thread on her desk chair. “It’s just kinda stressful trynna agree on a costume.” She fills A’Keria in on their plight.

A’keria mulls it over. With a quirk of an eyebrow and a shrug of her shoulders, she suggests, “I mean goin’ back to that Disney movie, you do have a muscly redhead by your side.” When Vanessa only looks at her quizzically, A’Keria explains, “You know— Kam in all her she-hulk glory, toga, you in that purple dress with the giant hips and off-the-shoulder things?”

Vanessa jumps, clapping her hands together. “Kiki, you’re a _genius!”_

A’Keria starts to say something snarky, but she’s cut off when Vanessa knocks the wind out of her lungs. Still aggressively hugging A’Keria, Vanessa starts to beg her friend to make the costumes. “Oh you have to, Kiki pleeeeease—“

A’Keria holds up her hands and Vanessa releases her grip. A’Keria shakes her head. “Girl… When I tell you I am all tied up doin’ my nephew’s costume. He wants to be the red ninja turtle and ain’t no kin of mine gonna be runnin’ around in the same toxic smellin’ nylon plastic bullshit every other kid’s gonna be wearin’.”

Vanessa pouts her lip. “I guess I could try and make ‘em. A toga can’t be that hard. Maybe I’ll make a weekend out of it with Kam. She’s trynna get ahead on work, though...”

“Listen.” A’Keria pats Vanessa on the shoulder. “I know a girl, name’s Jaida. She ain’t gonna give you the friends and family discount you get with me, but she’s top quality, truly. I’ll find her info for you.”

For the second time in ten minutes, Vanessa’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas. 

At dinner, she shares the good news with Kameron, who is visibly relieved. “Oh thank God,” she exhales. “I was distracted all day tryna come up with new ideas. I really had the thought: maybe we just won't do Halloween this year.”

Vanessa gasps. She brings the back of her wrist to her wife’s forehead as if checking for a fever. 

Kameron nods. “I know, I woulda thought I was takin’ crazy pills to think that last year.” 

Vanessa nods solemnly. “Good thing Kiki bailed us out.” 

“Truly,” Kameron concurs. “You gotta give that girl a honkin’ Christmas bonus.”

Vanessa shoots Kameron a Look. They both know that whoever is in charge of doling out bonuses, it’s not her. Regardless, it does mean Vanessa now needs to get thinking on what to get Kiki for Christmas…

Vanessa messages Jaida during business hours the following day. Over a forty-five minute phone conversation, Vanessa gives the seamstress all of her and Kameron’s measurements. Her only special request is for Jaida to make the top of Kameron’s sit higher up, so she won’t be going full tits-out on Halloween. Jaida gives her an estimate of the cost and asks for some additional measurements. That evening, as Vanessa takes a measuring tape from the hollow of her wife’s collarbone to her bustline, Kameron says out of the blue, “I don’t even know what foods are gonna gross me out this time.”

“What’d you mean, food?” Vanessa takes the note and switches to measuring Kameron’s long legs; Jaida wanted to know exactly where her knees were so the skirt would fall correctly. 

Kameron’s thoughts flow freely. “I mean if I’m gonna be Hercules I’ll wanna bulk up, and to do that I’ll be adjusting my diet and I don't know what foods that help build muscle are gonna make me wanna ralph.” She locks eyes with Vanessa, whose brows furrow. “I mean I never liked the smell of boiling eggs or boiled eggs or eggs in general and a couple times they bothered me enough to make me sick, but sometimes I craved smelly breakfast sandwiches and I liked the smell or it didn’t bother me and I don’t know which it’s gonna be this time.”

Vanessa purses her lips and nods. “Ain't nobody gonna force deviled eggs down yo’ throat, so might as well avoid ‘em if it’s the possibility it could be a problem.” She stands back up and switches their places so Kameron is standing flat on the floor and she’s on the stool. Vanessa wants to be level with her wife for a second, literally. “But listen, I know you have your way and I’m not tellin’ you you can't or you shouldn’t or anythin’ not tryna police you.” 

Kameron nods, sensing what her wife is about to say. She lets her say it anyway.

“Don’t push yourself just so you can look ripped in a costume, alright?” 

Kameron nods. 

“Okay, not that I doubt you,” Vanessa says. 

Kameron’s head is bobbing up and down swiftly. “Not worth risking it for a picture, completely agree.”

“Okay?” asks Vanessa.

Kameron offers her hand to help her wife off the stool. “Of course.”

Vanessa sends Jaida the last measurements. Jaida sends back a paypal request for half the cost upfront, which Vanessa gladly returns, 20% tip included. 

They meet Jaida in person the following weekend, when the seamstress invites her clients to her apartment to make sure everything fits (as well as to exchange the other half of the money). The woman is statuesque with a body like wow and Vanessa has never seen anyone in a loose t-shirt and leggings look so goddamn chiq. Kameron picks her wife’s jaw off the floor for her, bringing Vanessa back to reality. She tries to shake her head clear, but hangs closer to Kameron, hoping her wife will keep her from embarrassing herself. 

“I see lots o’ carpet,” Kameron starts, hanging in the entryway. “Are we a shoes on or off house?”

“D’you take a good look at this floor?” Jaida laughs. “Does it look like we’re a house that cares about stains?”

Kameron laughs and Vanessa follows, only half in on the joke. The other half is still gawking at this seamstress who really ought to be a model. Jaida welcomes them into the main living area and starts preparing the space for the fitting.She pulls out a floor length mirror from behind an ironing board and a collapsable stool from behind the well worn couch. Vanessa DMs A’Keria while Jaida readies Kameron’s costume. 

V: ok you didnt mention shes naomi motherfuckin campbell

Jaida opens two legholes from where she’s added secret shorts to the bottom of the drapey tunic. Kameron steps into the costume in her work blouse and jean shorts. Even though her wife is more than fully clothed, even though Jaida is literally just doing her job, Vanessa can’t help the pang of jealousy that kicks up when the other woman puts her hands on Kameron. Jaida holds several sewing pins in her mouth and Vanessa’s jaw clenches when the seamstress pulls one out to stick it in the gathering at Kameron’s lower back. When she steps around to do the neckline, bunching up the fabric above and around Kameron’s bust… Vanessa forces herself to take a breath and blink away the red tint to her vision. When she looks back, Kameron is eyeing her up in the mirror. She wiggles her eyebrows and Vanessa watches herself go red. Vanessa clears her throat and sits back against Jaida’s couch, pulling out her phone to distract herself until it’s her turn. She sees Akeria had texted back.

A: would it of made a difference? you’re not supposed to notice other beautiful women anyway your married

Vanessa rolls her eyes. 

V: I may be married but im not blind

Her turn does come, oh boy does it. Vanessa is acutely aware of sly green eyes watching her from behind. Jaida goes about her tasks, pinning, stretching, angling her head back, squinting, looking at how the dress fits every part of Vanessa’s profile. And she knows it’s not like that, doesn’t want it to be like that, doesn’t want to be having this reaction, but Vanessa can’t help it. She flinches, blushes, does that weird dumb giggle that she hates when she’s nervous. And all the while Kameron is giving her those eyes, and that’s the thing that’s messing with her, she realizes. Because those eyes, that face, that expression… is Kam’s domme face. 

Vanessa retreats into herself after that. She lets Kameron do the talking, sticks herself into Kameron’s right side, wraps her wife’s arm around her shoulders, winds their wedding ring around and around her finger, twisting and swaying like an impatient child. She doesn’t hear anything Jaida is saying, which is probably bad, but she really, really, can’t wait to get out of there.

They say their goodbyes and Jaida walks them out. Once they’re finally alone, Vanessa goes to pull Kameron in-- for a kiss, an embrace, any kind of comfort. Instead, Kameron physically unhooks Vanessa from her arm, firmly yet gently pushing her off. Vanessa opens her mouth to whine, but Kam shuts her down.

“Don’t talk. Get in the car.”

 _Oh, Fuck._

Vanessa complies. A blade of terror strikes her. Maybe she misread Kameron’s expression. She might not be playing. _Oh shit oh shit oh shit she’s really mad ain’t she?_

Kameron slides into the driver’s seat and slams the door. Vanessa flinches. It’s against every urge she has for her to keep quiet, but she knows, if she opens her mouth, things will only get much, much worse. Kameron turns the key in the ignition; the sedan hums to life, painfully loud in their silence. There have been very, very few silences like this in their relationship. Each of them comes back to Vanessa now as her pulse hammers in her ears. Her wife won’t even look at her. Against her better judgement, Vanessa opens her mouth.

“Did I say you could fucking talk?” Kameron snaps.

Vanessa jumps in her seat, heart banging out of her chest. They still haven't left their parking spot. 

“And don’t look at me,” her wife continues in a growl. “Don’t touch me. If I hear a fucking _peep_ from you on the way home I might just gag you so hard you fucking choke, is that understood?”

Vanessa is more afraid right now in this car than she has ever been in any horror movie. But what she’s afraid of has changed. This is definitely, 100% Domme Kam. Her horniness, which had taken a backseat for a minute, returns at full force. Vanessa’s bratty side wants her to act out, to dare her wife to make good on her threat of punishment, since Kam is so often a softie. But, just for now, Vanessa redirects her eyes to her lap, where she shoves her hands between her thighs, to comfort herself and to warm up her fingers.

“Ah-” Kameron barks, jump-scaring Vanessa again. “No touching yourself either. Sit on ‘em if you have to.”

Vanessa very slowly pulls her hands out from her lap, winding her palms and fingers languidly over the bulge of her thighs. When she lifts her butt off the seat, she lets the motion carry like a wave from her pelvis all the way up her torso. She presses her palms into the cloth seat, warmed by her own body heat, and sits down. Two feet away, she can feel Kameron’s eyes on her. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Vanessa eyes up her own reflection in the windshield, watches the coy expression cross her features. 

Kameron exhales and it rumbles the back of her throat. A shiver ripples from Vanessa’s breastbone to her nipples. Her nipples, which have been quite sensitive as of late. And, when Kam said not to touch herself… she meant with her hands. But… if Vanessa pays extra attention to her breathing, breathes deep and full… A smile spreads across her lips. Kameron is pulling out of the parking structure and the subtle, oh so subtle vibration of the tires on the road, radiate up her thighs, between her legs… this. This is how she gets what she wants. Following the rules, and disobeying anyway.

Kameron doesn’t talk, doesn’t turn on the radio, leaving Vanessa to stew in silence. While she’s bouncing off the walls in her own head looking for ways to challenge Kameron, on the outside, Vanessa is stoic and unperturbed. Kameron will know this is an act, know it’s killing Vanessa to be still and quiet with no stimuli to pay attention to-- that’s why she’s doing it. Vanessa makes a mental note to ask the kink forums if boredom torture is a thing because if so, she hates it. Of course, that’s the point. 

Vanessa sniffles. She pulls her hand out and goes to wipe her drippy nose on her arm, then she realizes what she’s done. And freezes, hand in midair, halfway to her face. Vanessa runs through the ways this can go. She can tuck her hand back under her ass and Kameron will sneer, _I saw that._ She can go ahead and wipe her nose as intended, play it off like she doesn’t care about the consequences. Or… another idea slinks into place. 

She can see out of the corner of her eye, without breaking the rule and looking directly at Kameron, that her wife’s shoulders are an inch higher than they should be. Her knuckles as she grips the wheel are white with tension. Rubber band drawn back in a wooden gun, waiting for someone to snap it. Vanessa swallows. Slowly, deliberately, making no sudden or unexpected movements whatsoever, she reaches down to the floor of the car, where they keep a box of tissues. With only her middle and index fingers, Vanessa grabs a sheet and slowly pulls it out of the box. She turns her head away from Kameron as she raises the tissue to her face, and wipes the moisture from the base of her right nostril. And, folding it over again, Vanessa blows her nose… a squishy, honking sound. She switches sides, and blows again. Done with it now, Vanessa crumples up the rest of the tissue in her hand, and deposits it in the trash bag, hanging off the lever for the emergency break.

At last, she returns her hand under her ass, and turns her head to the side window. She can’t wipe the satisfied smile from her lips, can’t shove down her mischievous pride as it rises in her chest like a helium balloon, can’t let Kameron see her shameless glee. And she can’t let herself see the way Kameron is reacting. Not if she wants to keep her new status in this delicious, thin grey zone between behaving and misbehaving. Good girl and bad. Obedient subservience, and brazen defiance.

They get home and Kameron directs Vanessa to stay silent and go to their playroom, pull out the floor mats and take off all her clothes. “By the time I get in there I want to see you on your knees only in your collar, leash attached.” 

Vanessa feels cold and alone in here, and feels anticipation rising in her belly, arousal pooling in her gut. But of course she can’t even think of touching herself without express permission. And Kameron takes her time. Vanessa’s grateful she took the liberty of peeing before the session, even though Mistress didn’t explicitly say she could. 

...

Okay she really really hates this waiting, the anticipation is building within her like pressure in a soda can. She allows a whimper to escape her throat. 

“I’d better have just heard a door creak,” Kameron barks from the hall. 

Vanessa flinches. Takes the risk to answer, and truthfully at that. “No, mistress. That was me.”

Kameron saunters into the room, her hair out of her usual work bun, falling down her shoulders. She’s in a grey bathrobe, and it looks like lingerie beneath. Vanessa recognizes that set... Her mouth waters and her pussy throbs. Those panties are crotchless. And that bra is struggling to contain Kameron’s swollen breasts. This is the most efficient form of torture Kameron can use on her wife. She’s teasing her just by standing.

Vanessa drags her eyes up to Kameron’s face. She won’t look at Vanessa, not at first. “Oh?” teases the redhead as she speaks to the room. “And here I was thinking the house must be haunted! After all…” Now Kameron lowers her gaze disapprovingly. Her volume drops as well. “I recall ordering a certain little _bitch_ to keep _quiet.”_

A shiver strikes Vanessa’s spine from bottom to top. 

Kameron takes two measured steps toward Vanessa. _“Didn’t I?”_

Vanessa’s neck snaps up. She makes herself look her Mistress in the eye when she answers. She’s a well trained pet who knows what her Mistress expexts. “You did, Mistress. Said not a peep.”

“And _yet...”_

Kameron continues her advances across the room, getting bigger and bigger as she gets closer and closer to where Vanessa kneels on the mat. Vanessa’s heart is in her throat. She’s so wet she feels it slink down her inner thigh like a teardrop. 

Kameron’s so close now she reaches out and strokes the crown of Vanessa’s head. She can’t help it when her eyes close and she gasps, leaning into the touch. “Purr for me, pet,” says Kameron. “Let me hear you.”

Vanessa lets out a breathy moan, hands going to grasp Kameron’s hand, but never gets a chance to make contact. Kameron yanks on Vanessa’s hair, destabilizing the girl, making her flail. She grabs onto Kameron’s arm to anchor herself, but ends up causing Kameron to pull on her hair even more. Vanessa whines in pain.

“That,” says Kameron. “All of that. Every moan, whimper and scream that’s coming out of your throat. Who does it belong to?”

“You.” Vanessa half-sings, eyes squeezed shut against the pain and the heat and the fear and the arousal. 

‘’And _what_ do you call me?!” Kameron gives Vanessa’s hair another yank.

“MISTRESS!” Vanessa cries out as she’s lifted by her hair. Tears squeeze out the corners of her eyes. Kameron lets go completely, letting Vanessa crumple to the dark carpeted floor. Vanessa gasps, tears streaming from her eyes as sobs bubble out of her throat. Her eyes are still firmly closed but she feels Kameron’s hand descending in front of her face to cup her by the chin. 

“Come now, pet,” she says softly. “Use your words. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Vanessa tries to speak around erratic, teary breathing. “Please, Mistress, please, let, let, let m, le, luh--”

“Take a _breath,_ pet.”

Vanessa manages to slow down her breathing while Kameron waits with an expression akin to the ones teachers would give while she explained that she didn’t have the homework. Vanessa manages a few slow but shaky breaths. “I wanna make it up to you. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Kameron tilts her head and presses a finger to her chin. “Hm. And what would be the penance for getting aroused by someone else?”

Vanessa drops to her elbows, her palms pressed into the carpet, and begs. “Please. Let me please you. Let me prove I’m loyal. Let me show how I only serve you, Mistress. Please.” 

She continues to beg until Kameron reaches out to hook a finger through the loop in Vanessa’s collar. She takes the leash, wraps it around her left hand, and guides Vanessa over to the sofa. The pressure created by Kameron’s gentle pulling on her collar is sweet and grounding. Vanessa’s still naked but she feels secure now with her Mistress as her guide. 

Kameron fans out the bottom of her robe to create a barrier between her ass and the sofa cushion. The fact that this ‘couch’ is an upcycled old church pew adds an additional naughty element to their scenes. Vanessa worships her Mistress with her mouth. She sucks the wetness from the limited material of Kameron’s panties -- Vanessa had remembered right: crotchless. She licks Kameron open, layer by layer, her tongue collecting the delectable nectar as it coats Vanessa’s upper lip, chin, even getting smeared up the tip of her nose. Thoroughly moisturized, Vanessa turns her affections to her wife’s clitoris. 

Kameron has been making low humming sounds, and when Vanessa nears her clit, her noises cut off, holding her breath in anticipation, only for Vanessa to loop to the opposite side of her pussy. Kameron’s Domme side tells her to scold Vanessa for teasing, but if she’d gone straight for Kam’s clit, it would have been too much too fast anyway. “And what a good pet you are,” she murmurs. “That you know exactly what your mistress wants.”

Vanessa presses her mouth into her mistress’ cunt, sandwiching Kameron’s sensitive clit between her lips. Without asking permission, her hands cup beneath Kameron’s thighs, giving her a better angle, to go deeper while she pinches and squeezes her wife’s ass. 

Kameron grunts _“So_ skilled, pet, such, such a well trained _ah_... animal…”

Vanessa smirks against her wife’s heat. Kameron has never been a natural domme, it’s a character she puts on for Vanessa sometimes. To fulfill her need to be small, to be taken care of, to be punished when she misbehaves on purpose. And in Kameron’s defense, she has worked on her domme side extensively. Tonight is the rare occasion where Kameron actually initiated a scene. Vanessa wants more than anything to reward her for doing so. Even if the facade is dropping prematurely. Just being able to go down on her wife like this, to hear her guttural moans, feel the puddle growing beneath Kam’s ass on this church pew…

It’s not the usual, for sure. But that doesn’t mean Vanessa won’t still use the Finishing Move that’s been doing the job for the better part of a decade. She swipes a pointer finger in a spiral around Kameron’s wet pussy, deploys a second at her entrance, scissoring her open. The first slicked finger creeps inside, gravitating to her wife’s G-spot like finding a lightswitch in the dark. From there it’s muscle memory as she strokes that spot and sucks that clit like a damn straw. 

She feels Kameron contract from inside her pussy to her thighs up to her ass and her abs as she locks her ankles behind Vanessa to ride it out. And Vanessa, the good little mutt that she is, takes the liberty of lapping up her domme’s mess.

Kameron comes around and starts petting Vanessa’s hair as she cleans them up. She reaches down to her collar and finds the clasp for the leash with her fingers, undoing it without looking. It ended up getting tangled in Vanessa’s hair sometime during the scene, and the sub yelps when Kameron tries to pull the leash away. “Sorry,” Kameron hisses. 

Vanessa instinctively grabs the leash and untangles it herself. She holds the caught strands secure, then quickly pulls the leash free, snapping a few hairs but sparing her scalp. She drops the leash on the floor and leans forward to rest her cheek on Kameron’s thigh. Kameron lets out a happy sigh and runs her fingers through Vanessa’s wavy hair, massaging her sore scalp. 

“You wanna swap?” Kameron asks after a while. 

Vanessa closes her eyes. “Only if you sure you can take a nose full o’ puss right now. With that smeller o’ yours.”

“You’ve got a point.” Kameron takes a breath. 

Vanessa hums.

“How ‘bout this though…” Kameron leans back and Vanessa looks up at her. “Your reward is... you get to go to the box and pick out whatever vibe you want. How ‘bout that?”

Vanessa swallows. “Can we go to the bed for that?” she asks.

“O’ course.” 

Kameron presses a kiss to her head as she leaves the play room to change into something more comfortable. Vanessa knows the vibe she wants before Kameron is even out of sight. She shuffles over to the toy box on aching knees. Pulling the box out, she finds the small black case right on top. The green LED light on the side tells Vanessa her favorite toy is all charged up and ready to go. She could just about jump to her feet and run to the bedroom, she’s so excited. 

She doesn’t though. 

Vanessa pokes her head around the doorframe to see Kameron reclining against the pillows in the exact center of their bed. Her face is angled down, reading glasses on, having removed her contacts. She puts the iPad to the side and pats the blankets next to her. “I see you hiding,” she says. “You can let yourself in.”

Vanessa’s heart does a loop-de-loop as she approaches. This is exciting, Kameron seems to be continuing the scene. She approaches coyly, eyes averted from her Mistress’ gaze even as she settles beside her on the bed. 

A hand combs some of Vanessa’s loose hair behind her shoulder. “Have you done as I asked you?” 

Vanessa nods, staring only at Kameron’s exposed knee under her robe. Underneath, Kam had switched from her lingerie to a long T-shirt, but she is still wearing that robe. Since she knows where to look, Vanessa can still see where the material still has darkened wet spots. She swallows hard. 

Kameron holds her palm out to Vanessa. “Can I see?” she asks. 

Vanessa snaps out of the memories of a half hour ago. She puts the black case in Kameron’s waiting hand, meeting her eye briefly before retreating once more. Kameron lets out a low chuckle. The sound alone sends red-hot shame to her cheeks. She curls further into herself, bringing her knees to her chest. 

Kameron pops the case open and pulls out her pet’s toy of choice. A smooth, svelte black number, the vibe has a dial on its base with three settings. Kameron turns the dial past the first setting in favor of the second. This option vibrates to the rhythm of a heartbeat, delightful buzzing punctuated by brief moments of rest. It’s to this rhythm that Vanessa came two days ago, her face buried in Kameron’s pillow while her wife played solitaire on the iPad, pretending not to notice. 

Now, Vanessa’s body reacts to the vibe before it even touches her, blood racing south and anticipation building in her chest. She hazards a glance up at her Mistress to see Kameron looking down at her with intent. A shiver radiates down Vanessa’s left side. 

“You’ve been so good for me,” Kameron purrs. “Been so good at making up for your slip-up today. You get a reward,” she insists in a sickly sweet tone. Kameron pets her sub, less gently this time. “You should be _happy,_ pet. Are you not _grateful_ for what a _generous_ Mistress you have?”

Vanessa nods quickly. “Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.”

“Other doms would send a little slut like you to bed without coming.” Kameron clicks her tongue and turns the vibrator off. “Maybe I should be more like them.”

“No please, Mistress,” Vanessa begs. “You, you’re an honest, true to your word mistress. You wouldn’t, wouldn’t ever go back on your word, you’re too truthful for that.”

Kameron locks eyes with her sub and smiles. “Fair point, pet,” she says. “You’re not as brainless as you seem.”

Vanessa bows her head. Accepts the backhanded compliment. 

“Tell you what,” says Kameron. “You’re getting that reward I promised.” 

Vanessa glances up hopefully. 

“And you’re getting it on my terms,” says Kameron. “Lie back. Arms by your sides.”

Vanessa complies with haste, only too eager to please her Mistress with her obedience. She gazes up at Kameron as her mistress seems to tower over her even while kneeling on the bed. Her body is blocking out the ceiling light, giving her a heavenly glow at the same time as casting her features in shadow. Vanessa’s heart skips a beat. 

Kameron leans down and forces Vanessa’s knees apart, not that Vanessa is putting up much of a fight. She’s just so excited her muscles are taut with it. Her Mistress grips the insides of her knees. Vanessa’s breath speeds up, Kameron can no doubt feel the accumulated sweat and arousal that's been building up down her thighs for the past hour. 

“Now, are you gonna be a good girl when I give you your reward?” Kameron’s minty-fresh breath stirs Vanessa’s baby hairs. Her Mistress sucks her thumb and then uses it to dampen down the fly-aways. Vanessa’s eyes close and she clenches her jaw. On the inside she’s absolutely screaming. 

“Look at me,” Kameron hums. 

Vanessa manages to open her eyes just a crack. The light and Kameron’s presence and breath is becoming overwhelming. She’s nowhere near red-ing out, but she has to clench her hands into fists and squeeze her eyes shut and purse her lips so hard they might bleed. 

Kameron drags a finger over Vanessa’s cheek with feather-light touch. “What do you need, pet?” She whispers. 

Vanessa’s lip quivers and she presses half of her face into the pillow. She musters enough control to utter a single word: “scarf”.

Her Mistress, her very very good and generous and kind mistress understands immediately what she needs. Her absence, rather than being a relief to Vanessa’s overstimulated senses, is replaced by a cold and emptiness she finds even more debilitating. When Kameron returns and she sits up so her mistress can tie the scarf around her eyes, Vanessa’s hands search for her. They find refuge by Kameron’s spine as her hands are busy with the blindfold. Vanessa lets out a sigh of relief, now that she can feel her dom again. 

“That’s better now, isn’t it?” says Kameron. 

Vanessa buries her face in Kameron’s shirt. She nods. 

Kameron bends down to place a kiss on Vanessa's head. She pets the sub’s hair. “Now,” she says soothingly. “Can you be good for your Mistress on your own, or do I need to bring out the spreader bar?”

Vanessa stills, face rising. 

“Well, pet?”

Vanessa swallows. “You may wanna get the spreader bar.”

Kameron lets out a hum-chuckle. “That’s my good girl. I’ll be right back.”

This time when her dom leaves, Vanessa has the clarity to realize this is the kind of night, the kind of scene, where Kameron will make her come until she begs for mercy. The realization comes with a softly exhaled, “Fuck.”

They’re late to the event and Kameron teases Vanessa about it the whole way there. She knows she can be distracted, but it was so difficult to stay focused on doing her hair while wearing _this._ Jaida had really knocked it out of the park. Of course Megara in the disney movie had an inhumanly teeny torso, like most of the princesses. Vanessa is no stranger to a corset or waist cincher, especially for special occasions, but obviously she can’t be compressing her tummy while trying to grow a baby in it. Even despite the lack of cinch, the way this dress is structured, the placement of the bustline so high and the waistline so low, this silhouette _should_ make her look even shorter than she is. But miraculously it manages the opposite. That’s why she can’t stop staring at her reflection in the mirror. 

And it’s no easy task to keep her eyes off Kameron as well. She keeps lean enough as is, and since she’s been upping her arm regiment, her wife looks even more sculpted than usual. Even with her tunic only reaching her knees, Vanessa still frets that her gorgeous wife is too covered up. She flirts with the idea of taking a pair of scissors down the front of the garment, only to discover the bodice is more flowy than she’d originally thought, and the drapings are not set in place, but there is in fact a way to leave a little sliver of space down Kameron’s sternum. 

Even though Jaida had added a soft lining around the bust (as if the rest of the garment wasn't soft enough already), Kameron secured pasties over her nipples. Everything being extra sensitive, she thought it best for practicality, plus she wouldn’t need to fight with a bra, strapless or otherwise. She’d contemplated covering some of her tattoos for accuracy’s sake, but Vanessa immediately vetoed that idea. She’d clutched Kameron’s arms protectively. “I love my inked hercules, don’t you dare cover a single one!”

So it went, as Vanessa helped her wife lace up her gladiator sandals before slipping her own feet into a pair of ballet flats on their way out the door. 

  
  


Even with the hustle and bustle of kids running around and the many distracting lights and flashes of colorful costumes, somehow Kameron and Vanessa are able to keep each other focused on finding Mariah and the craft tent. Vanessa zeroes in on someone about Mariah’s height, but their back is turned, and they’re talking to someone, so she’d be content to wait if the little girl hadn’t confronted her first. 

“If you wanna do the craft, take a seat and wait.”

“Oh, uh, we uh--” she fumbles her words. Vanessa is taken aback, not having even noticed the girl was in front of her. The girl is wearing a black top with the X-Men logo on it and black pants, plus a matching black cape, probably repurposed from another costume. The only real clue to what X man she is, is the fact that her dense, textured hair has silver sprayed over it. 

Kam turns around. “Oh we’re here to see Mariah actually,” says Kameron. “Is that her over there?”

The girl turns her head to see where Kameron is pointing. “Yeah, that’s her. She’s busy. Can I take a message?”

Vanessa lets out a chuckle and looks up at Kameron, grateful her wife can be the mouthpiece for them both. “Oh I’m sure we’ll catch her again, just tell her we stopped by.”

“Mkay,” the girl says. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“We- um. It’s...” Now it’s Kameron’s turn to be tongue-tied. 

Vanessa steps in. “She knows us.”

The girl raises an eyebrow. “So I just say two random ladies said hi?”

“We’re not--” Vanessa starts to say. 

Beside her, Kameron looks over the little girls’ head and waves. Mariah has turned around and recognized them. Vanessa is relieved, of course Mariah will explain the situation. “Hey ladies!” cries Mariah as she goes in for hugs-- Vanessa first, then Kameron. “A’Keria’s girl knocked it outta the _park,_ man. Look at you!”

They gab about each other’s costumes-- Mariah is in a neon green sweatsuit with a small green handprint on her cheek and a pair of devil horns painted the same shade. “I’m so happy you’re here, I see you met Kayla.” Mariah hovers a hand a few inches from the girl’s shoulder. 

Kayla scratches her scalp and flakes of Storm Grey hair paint fall onto her shoulders like festive dandruff. Mariah murmurs to the girl and receives a nod in response. Mariah starts shaking Kayla’s shirt to dust off the little flakes. “Yeah, Miss Mariah,” says Kayla. “Who are they?”

“They’re my bosses,” Mariah says, still focused on tidying the girl’s shirt.

“Nuh-uh.” Kayla makes a face and shoots a look up at her chaperone. “You said _we’re_ your bosses. So which is it?”

Kameron covers a surprised laugh with a cough. Kayla shoots her a glare and she has to hide behind her hand. It’s not that she’s never heard a kid talk plainly, she has nieces and nephews. It’s just that city kids have this sass that she _never_ heard from other kids growing up. When she looks at Vanessa, she sees her wife’s mouth half curled up in a twitch of pride for a kid she just met. 

Mariah lets out a cough/laugh. “Well you’re right about that, I’m here for you guys, but _these two_ sign my paychecks.”

Kayla’s brows knit together. “So they _are_ the boss of you.”

“Not exactly.” Mariah tells Kayla to do a spin to see how much of the silver dust she’s gotten rid of. She makes a face. “That’s about as good as we’re gonna get for now. Do me a favor and go back to welcoming people while I finish up talking to my _financiers_?”

“Fine-ass- _what?”_ Kayla asks.

This time, no one can hide it as they crack up. Vanessa hides her face behind Kameron’s shoulder. 

“Financiers,” Mariah chuckles. She pats the girl on the shoulder (swipes at a few more grey specks because she just can’t help it). “Fancy word for people-who-give-you-money. Now, go on.”

Kayla shrugs and walks over to a couple girls dressed as princesses who are looking at the craft table curiously. 

Mariah takes a steadying breath and shakes her head. “These kids.” She smiles.

Vanessa and Kameron smile back. But something in Vanessa’s heart is still unsteady. They catch up a little more, Mariah recommends the boys’ choir horchata stand and the community theater’s haunted hayride. It would probably be fine to go through the junior college’s jump-scarey haunted house, but Kameron and Vanjie don’t have to discuss it for a whole 30 seconds before deciding against even the slightest risk. “It’s not the jumping I’m concerned about,” Kameron says. “It’s the too-startled-to-catch-myself-in-the-dark-and-I-fall possibility.” 

Vanessa nods soberly. In any other pregnancy, she’d say the chances are so low, it’s paranoid and overly-cautious to avoid things that are almost certainly safe. But they _can’t_ take risks with this one. 

After throwing heavy wet sponges at a church deacon ‘s face behind a cardboard cutout of a cowboy and warming up inside with warm, homemade horchata, Kameron leads Vanessa down a hill to the waiting area for the haunted hayride. Seated on prickly hay bales, Vanessa pulls out her phone to take a couples pic, because of course she does. When the flash goes off, Kameron notices a reflection behind them. 

She turns to look at the lady next to them, who she hadn’t noticed before, somehow. The lady is in head to toe pink western attire, pink cowboy boots, matching pink fringe jacket and pants, a bola tie, and pink and white checkered button-down, which had to be tailored since there was absolutely no strain or gap in the buttons done over her massive pushed-up tits. To top it all off is the platinum blonde bouffant hair hat, twice as tall as the face beneath it. She isn’t looking at Kameron, who stares mouth agape, too busy scrolling through instagram with the pad of her thumb to avoid touching her ridiculously long nails to her screen.

Vanessa notices her wife openly staring and follows her awestruck gaze. Her brow arches in reaction to the all-pink cowgirl. Looking again from Kameron to the stranger, Vanessa decides it’s worth it to embarrass Kameron for openly staring at another woman. She clears her throat and raises her voice, fully aware of how hyper-focused a person can become when on their phone. “I love all the fringe!” she belts. 

Kameron’s jaw snaps closed and she looks to her wife wide-eyed with horror. 

The cowgirl glances down at herself, as if having forgotten what she’s wearing, before letting out half a laugh and uttering a “Thanks” without making eye contact. 

Vanessa leans over Kameron, flashing a smile, turning on the charm. “Ive never seen a costume look so high quality,” she gushes. “And it fits you so perfectly, did you tailor it yourself?”

“Uh, yeah. Actually, I made the whole outfit myself.” The girl nods, putting her phone down on her lap. She meets Vanessa’s eye. 

_She must be wearing contacts, nobody’s eyes are that blue,_ thinks Vanessa. She lets out a genuine shocked/impressed noise. “Oh damn!” she looks again at what she and Kameron are wearing. “I mean, ours are handmade too, but God knows neither of us is that talented-- I’m Vanessa by the way, this is Kameron, my wife. She talks sometimes, mostly just communicates by staring at strangers.” 

Vanessa is relieved to see the cowgirl laugh and relax, even slightly. 

She extends a hand and introduces herself. “Trixie.”

Kameron nervously shakes her hand and apologises for her dry skin. 

“Mama, that’s nothing,” Trixie reassures. “You should feel my girlfriend’s hands. You look at her skin under the microscope and it’s-- you ever seen National Geographic pictures of those flat salt deserts?” 

Vanessa snorts and Kameron folds over laughing. 

“Oh and someone must’ve lit the black flame candle,” Trixie says. “‘Cause here she comes now!”

They turn to see a woman with a pale face in full Victorian mourning attire approaching. The only thing out of place are the dark stains below her eyes from where she’s made herself look like she’s been crying blood. When she’s close enough, she says in the kind of haggard voice one expects to come from a grisled ghost, _“I’ve brought your funnel cake, ma’am.”_

As soon as she says it and Vanessa catches the sight and smell of the treat, her brain zeroes in on the plate. There may be other people talking but she can’t hear and doesn’t care. “I’mma need you to give me some of that funnel cake. I will Venmo you a hundred dollars for that plate right now everything in my pregnant body _needs_ it Right Now.” 

“Okay Jesus, here.” 

Trixie is holding out a handful of deep-fried batter dusted with powdered sugar and cinnamon for Vanessa to take. She does, and doesn’t bother breaking it up further, just crams the whole section into her mouth with a moan.

Kameron chuckles. “I could’ve _got_ you funnel cake, you know.”

Vanessa lets out more little moans every time she chews. Trixie and her girlfriend regard her with raised brows and a murmured ‘I’ll have what she’s having’. Vanessa holds up a finger to silence her wife for the moment, at least until she can speak again. 

She pats Kameron on the arm and swallows. “I didn’t know I needed it til this second.” She turns to Trixie’s girlfriend. “You’re a saint.”

The widow smiles mischievously. “Oh I assure you I am quite the opposite.” She has dropped her earlier Igor voice in favor of something softer, more genteel. “I shall accept your firstborn as payment for this favor.”

Vanessa laughs. “In your dreams. My kid in exchange for not even a whole Half a funnel cake? Gimme the plate and maybe we’ll talk.”

Trixie’s girlfriend wheezes laughing, then lets out a telltale smokers cough. 

Kameron elbows her in the ribs. “You are not bartering our baby for a funnel cake.”

Vanessa spreads her palms. “C’mon babe, we already got a heir and a spare--” She’s cut off by Kameron giving her shoulder a shove. “Ow, okay fine, was just kidding. Never ACTUALLY gonna give away our kid, sheesh.”

The widow leans forward. “I was only kidding,” she says in a normal voice.

“See?” Vanessa gestures. “We’re joking,”

“Or _was_ I?” Trixie’s girlfriend taps her fingertips against her chin.

Trixie blocks her date from view. “She’s kidding.”

They have a good chuckle before Kameron says, “I feel like I’ve met you before.” 

“Probably not,” answers the widow, taking on yet another affectation.. “Unless you enjoy meeting in the cemetery under a full moon and howling into the void.”

Trixie looks at Kameron. “She teaches Russian at Stanford.”

A lightbulb goes off above Kameron’s head at the same time and Vanessa’s eyes get wide and she goes very quiet. Because there is more than one reason these two women are familiar. The first, the connection Kameron has made, that a Katya Z and Trixie M have attended fundraising galas of theirs in the past. She recalls Trixie in a hot pink dress which seemed to barely contain her… assets as her date dragged the edge of a bread knife over the hills and valleys of her… tracts of land. Vanessa recalls this picture because it was burned into the backs of her eyelids after she walked into the bathroom at the wrong moment. And she’d never told anyone, and managed to keep the memory buried for over a year… until now. 

Now, she lets Kameron take over the conversation. She spots the headlights of the tractor approaching. Their ride is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to learn more about what Vanessa remembered, read "Bread and Butter" in this series. It's the first in this universe that I wrote, actually.


	4. Sonogram Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At their 8 week ultrasound, Kameron and Vanessa get good news... and bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst ahead. **TW for discussion of miscarriage**. Nothing is shown of the actual event in this chapter but it is discussed, heavily.

The joyous anticipation of Halloween gives way to similar excitement about Kameron and Vanessa’s six week ultrasounds. Since she’s had so much bad news, their doctor doesn’t even send Kameron to the ultrasound clinic, he has them done in his wing before their appointment with him. And, an additional perk is Vanessa gets to have hers done immediately after Kameron’s! She’s really looking forward to it, even though she knows secondhand from Kameron’s experiences that the news isn’t always good. 

Kameron’s excitement over ultrasounds has been dampened over the years, and as the date gets closer, she has issues falling asleep. She had woken up one night mid panic attack. She woke Vanessa up as her whole body was violently shaking as if she’d been left out naked in the cold. It was all Vanessa could do to hold Kameron’s hand and breathe with her. She wanted to grab a Xanax for her wife, as that’s what she usually does when Kameron’s anxiety is this bad. But Kameron would never allow it. No matter how low the risks were, Kameron refused to do anything that might increase the risk of something going wrong with the baby. No matter how many doctors and counsellors have told Kameron it wasn’t her fault, Vanessa knows her wife still blames herself for how many times she miscarried. 

Instead of prescription sedatives, Vanessa brings her wife Ritz crackers and the kind of OTC allergy medication that knocks her out anyway. Later in the day, when Kameron is in her right mind, she confesses to Vanessa that yes, she knows exactly what caused that attack and yes, it’s the fear that this upcoming scan will be a repeat of so many other times. Granted, last time she had good ultrasounds… 

And it’s still more likely that this will go well than it won’t. And knowing those facts helps a little, but the rest of the help comes from the tools she learned in therapy, and the warm pressure of her wife’s hand in her own. 

Kameron and Vanessa show up to the doctor’s office already uncomfortable. They always want you to come with a full bladder, something to do with helping to see better. Vanessa clamps a hand over Kameron’s shaking knee. “Sorry,” Kam whispers. 

Vanessa smooths the material of Kameron’s drawstring sweatpants. Her wife hasn’t tied the strings at all, reluctant to do anything that might put more pressure on her bladder. Vanessa notices she’s peeing more often, but Kam seems to be exceptionally frequent. She bites the inside of her lip, trying to push away fears of pregnancy diabetes. “I didn’t use to be like this,” she’d said this past weekend. She’d punished Kameron for limiting her fluid intake by refusing to speak to her until she saw her wife drink a full quarter of her lemon water. 

Kameron had smiled as she brought the glass to her lips, droplets of condensation falling down the side like raindrops on a window. “Knew my neuroses would wear off on you eventually.”

Vanessa practices asking the question in her head. Growing up, she’d never gone to a doctor unless there was bone sticking out or some other real emergency going on. So as an adult she wasn’t prepared for how to talk to a doctor. She didn't know what information she was supposed to have on-hand, how she was supposed to talk to them. Living with Kameron, she’d picked up a few things, sometimes at her wife’s direct order. She’d caught a chest cold once and had a cough that lasted for weeks. Kameron kept pressing her to go to the doctor, but Vanessa hadn’t been able to say _I don’t know what to do._ Instead, she plead for her wife to come with her. 

Kam had been newly pregnant _and_ in the middle of tax season, so she’d put her foot down. “Ness, I love you. I cannot go to _every_ little appointment with you. So I’m gonna tell you what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna write down what’s bothering you, when it started, and how it impacts your daily life-- you wake up coughing in the middle of the night, you’re so short of breath you’re woozy every other day--”

“Every day,” Vanessa corrected her softly. 

“So _tell_ them that,” Kameron pressed. 

Vanessa did write all that down. She read it aloud to Kameron, added in the tidbits that Kam told her to, and went to Kameron’s primary care clinic. They sent her home with a prescription for an inhaler and the knowledge that the cough would probably still last a few weeks. She hadn’t taken the medicine quite as often as the doc wanted her to, to Kameron’s dismay. The stuff tasted nasty, but it did help with the wheezing so she’d taken it when it got bad, which did pacify her worrywart of a wife. 

They’re called into the ultrasound room with a technician, not their doctor. Kameron jumps up on the table first, pulling up her T-shirt and opening the drawstring of her pants. The tech chuckles. “Wow you know the drill, don’t you?” she jokes, shaking the tube of gel. 

Kameron cracks a smile. “Do we get warm gel today?”

“Fraid not,” says the tech. “Gonna have to make do with the cold stuff for now.” She squirts a line of ultrasound gel across Kameron’s tummy. 

Kameron sucks her teeth. “Pity.”

The tech presses and prods with the probe on Kam’s abdomen. Kam and Vanessa mostly keep quiet to let her focus on her job, except when Kam has to flinch because the lady’s pressing that doohickey right onto her full bladder. The woman takes notice. “I know, I’m sorry, promise we’re almost done. Five more minutes, then you can go to the bathroom and when you come back, the sonogram will be printed and waiting for you.”

Cool washes over Kameron. It would sound odd if she said it out loud, but she knows just from the tech’s energy that everything is okay. For now, at least. There are voices in the hallway-- the distinctive cadence of one Dr Jack E. Cox-- and Kameron and Vanessa share a smile. The technician sees their expression and says “You’re Jack’s patients, right?” Seeing them nod, she offers “If you want, you can see if Dr Cox has a minute if he wants to come in and take a look-see.”

Vanessa wastes no time, jumping up from her chair, she sticks her head out the door. Dr Cox is walking by with a guy in scrubs and a nametag Vanessa doesn’t bother to read. Seeing the doctor in his tailored labcoat, thin rimmed glasses and slicked back hair, Vanessa is again reminded she’s bisexual. “Doc!” she whisper-yells. 

He whirls on his heel to see her. Recognition flashes across his face. “Hey! Mrs Mateo-Michaels, good to see you!” He greets her in his ‘hallway voice’ a few notches quieter than his regular volume.

Vanessa tells him he can come in if he wants, and he peeks around Vanessa to catch a glimpse at the technician in the room. “Is she sure, I wouldn’t wanna impose…”

“Come on in!” calls the tech from inside. 

Vanessa opens the door for Dr Cox and he closes it gently behind him. He shakes Kameron’s hand as she’s lying down, asks her how she’s getting on. Kameron grimaces. “About to burst into a puddle of pee, if I’m honest.”

“Bah, you’re done, I got what I need.” The tech pulls out tissues for Kameron to wipe off the gel.

Kameron grabs the tissue and books it into the bathroom. 

“Alrighty Jan, whadda we got here?” Dr Cox comes to stand behind the technician, asks if it’s okay, even as she waves away his courtesy. 

Vanessa thinks, _they make a good pair, they must chill outside work._ But she thought she’d seen a wedding ring on the technician’s finger? She tries to get a better look, but Jan is typing something behind the portable desk and she can’t get a good look at her hands. 

Now Jan the technician and Dr Cox are smiling at each other, communicating with their eyes and Vanessa wonders just what is going on. A mechanical sound comes from under the desk. Jan pulls out a freshly printed picture the size of her palm. “You wanna tell ‘em the good news?” she prompts.

“Can I?” asks Dr Cox as he presses his hand against his sternum. “Or do you want to?”

“Your patients.” Jan shakes her head and turns back to the computer. “Go for it.”

“Go for what?” Kameron comes out of the side bathroom. Vanessa glimpses a single toilet and sink behind her wife and thinks of how her own urgency has grown since they first arrived. 

Dr Cox hands her the sonogram photo and starts to explain what it shows. “Vanessa, come on over.”

Vanessa rises, the pressure on her bladder relieved once she’s no longer sitting. She watches the doctor pointing to different parts of the picture. As he points out the shadow that is the probe, the black void that is the baby’s sack, the little greyish grain of rice stuck on the wall. And… the other sac. With the other grain of rice growing off the wall. “Twins,” Kameron nods. “That’s cool. Never had two implant before!” 

Vanessa sees her wife’s excitement in her face, even as she tries to suppress it. “Babe!!!” Vanessa throws her arms around Kameron’s neck as her wife takes the picture from the doctor. “Twins. You see that? Two for the price of one!”

Kameron chuckles. “More like two for the price of twelve.” She purses her lips and looks down. “Okay I’m a little excited. A lot actually-- very excited.”

Dr Cox asks if Vanessa has gone yet, and when they say she hasn’t, he offers to stay. Jan shoots him a look, prompting the doc to insist “I’m just taking an interest in my patient is all!”

“Mmm hmm,” says Jan. Her mouse clicks and it’s the perfect beat before she asks, “Which meeting are we avoiding today?”

Kameron and Vanessa laugh.

“The first _hour_ of those board meetings have never _not_ been a complete waste of my time,” says Dr Cox. _“No one_ will care if I come in ten-twenty minutes late.” 

“Well, good for us then,” Kameron remarks as Vanessa hops up on the table.

Kameron takes a photo of the sonogram and immediately sends it to her mom, who tries to call her right back when she receives it. ‘Still in office’ she types after declining her call. The Vickster sends a ‘oh ok talk later’ with a single exclamation point and too many emojis. Kameron stows her phone and returns her attention to the room. 

She and Vanessa gab giddily with each other for quite awhile until Kameron takes notice that more time has passed than feels normal. And the rapport between Jan and Dr Cox has stopped completely. They have Vanessa on her side and she flinches as Jan jams that probe ever harder into her bladder. Kameron grabs a tube of Ritz crackers from her purse. Vanessa takes one, and she offers the doctor one, but his eyes are fixed on the screen, his lips pursed. Jan is invisible behind the monitor, but for the pale arm reaching out from behind to move the probe around Vanessa’s abdomen. Kameron gently stands, trying to make it seem like she’s just trying to stretch her legs, so she can get a look at what Dr Cox is stressing over. _If nothing is wrong, it wouldn’t be taking this long._

The tech senses her looking over her shoulder and adjusts the screen so Kameron can see, not that she knows what she’s looking at. “Sorry it’s taking a while,” explains Dr Cox in a soft tone. “We just want to be really sure.”

White hot anxiety rises behind Kameron’s sternum, reflux made entirely of panic. She tells herself to go sit back down, grab Vanessa’s hand, but she’s frozen. 

Jan says in a voice so soft she probably thinks Kameron can’t hear: “It’s textbook, doc.” They share some more words that Kameron misses, and she can’t explain why she’s so freaked out when the technician gets up and _leaves._

Dr Cox runs his fingers through his quaffed hair and turns the monitor around so Vanessa can see. He hands her some tissue so she can wipe the gel off herself. “So,” he says. “You saw on Kameron’s ultrasound, I pointed out the sack, or sacks, and both babies.” He waits for Vanessa to nod. Kameron is finding it hard to breathe. 

He continues, “What was taking so long was both me and the technician, looking for your embryo. What we do see here,” he uses his pen to point at the black area of the monitor. “We do see the sack, but the sack is empty.”

Vanessa’s brow creases, her face scrunching up. Kameron is pulled to her wife’s side in a moment, taking her hands in her own. Vanessa looks up at her, and Kameron’s face must have gone grey and solemn, because her wife finds no comfort in it. If anything, Vanessa seems more nervous now. 

Dr Cox sighs. “It looks like you’re experiencing blighted ovum, what’s called a ‘missed’ miscarriage.”

The doctor probably would have explained further, but Vanessa cuts him off. “Even the blood test said I’m pregnant.”

Dr Cox bites the inside of his lips and weaves his fingers together. “Your body and the baby had a miscommunication, Vanessa. The embryo implanted, your body started to build a nest for it, just like normal. But for whatever reason, the baby didn’t develop. But your body still thinks you’re pregnant, so it’s still giving you all the hormones that result in positive results on pregnancy tests.”

Vanessa lays back against the cot, staring at the speckled ceiling tiles, the areas that have warped and discolored over time. “So my body lied.”

Kameron squeezes her hand and looks at Dr Cox as he processes what he’s gonna say. Kameron steps in to give the man a break. 

“She missed a memo,” she says, joining her wife on the table. “Lying is intentional. Your body had no intent to deceive you. She’s just setting up a nursery for a baby that… she doesn’t realize is already gone.” 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Kameron makes herself look at the small window, look at the light so the tears don’t spill over. Because right now isn’t about her. But... they were so happy ten minutes ago!

The next thing that comes out of Vanessa’s mouth makes Kameron snort. “Doc, you sure you ain't just lookin’ in the wrong place? Like… she could be in there and she just camouflaged real good?” 

Kameron splutters and Dr Cox has to cover his reaction with a fake cough. "I really wish that was the case,” he says with a sad smile. “You're welcome to get a second opinion, schedule an internal ultrasound, wait and see if we can get something on later scans. It _has_ happened, I’m not gonna deny that but... the most likely reality here is not a happy one."

Vanessa takes a deep breath and presses her wrists into her eyes. She exhales shakily. “Well fuck.”

They leave Dr Cox’s office with a prescription to fill if they change their minds about waiting for nature to take her course. As they pass through the automatic doors, Vanessa says, barely audible. “We’re gonna have to tell people…”

“Not before you’re ready.” Kameron rests a hand on her wife’s shoulder with a squeeze. 

Vanessa pulls out her phone and winces. “The girls wanna know how it went.” She shoves her phone back in her pocket, a rueful grin spreading across her face. “Should I say ‘well we got good news and bad news’—“

Kameron shakes her head. “You don’t have to say anything right now.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? I gotta go back to work.”

Vanessa’s voice is tight. Kameron senses a meltdown incoming and it’s all she can do to pull her to the side. She leads them behind a pillar, away from the foot traffic going in and out of the medical center. Vanessa is stressing; she’d kept it tight in Dr Cox’ office but the more distance between them and that room, the more Vanessa’s control of her emotions is running out. 

“Okay.” Kameron levels with her. “You just got really, really bad news. We’re not sugarcoating that.”

Vanessa grits her teeth. She probably wants to collapse into a sobbing mess right here. Kameron wants more than anything to let her, to join her even. But right now, she needs to be the grown-up. For her wife. “Listen to me, whatever reaction you’re having, you’re allowed to have, one hundred percent. And I am _here_ for you, okay? So whatever you decide you need, I will do the hard stuff. I’ll call work and tell them you’re taking the rest of the day off. If that’s what you decide you need.” 

Vanessa slinks into a squat, leaning against the pillar for support. 

Kameron’s phone buzzes. Her mom. She wanted to know how the rest of the appointment went after the announcement of her twins. That felt like ages ago now. Something in Kameron longs to turn back time. To rewind just before the celebration was overshadowed by a funeral march. But that’s selfish of her. 

Vanessa hiccups, bringing Kameron back to the present ache. Her wife’s eyes are red and her cheeks are wet. Kameron catches movement from inside the lobby. The check in lady, Holly or Hilda or Heidi or something, has left her place behind the desk and is approaching the door. She locks eyes with Kameron. _Shit._

Kameron straightens her spine and rolls her shoulders back, running through what she’s gonna say to this concerned employee. Now that she’s closer, Kameron tries to discreetly check the woman’s silver name tag. Heidi-- she _did_ remember! 

“Hey there…” Heidi’s voice is soft and her mulberry pink lips pull back to reveal a charming gap between her two front teeth. “Is there somethin’ I could help with? Do y’all need anything? Juice, water…”

Heidi’s eyes are full of genuine concern, southern accent tinging her words with hospitality that reminds Kameron of home. Vanessa looks up at the woman. Her voice is thick. “I’d appreciate a drink of water actually.” Vanessa clears the tears and gravel out of her throat.

Heidi nods, humming an ‘absolutely’ and looks to Kameron. “You?”

Kameron shakes her head, uttering an “I’m good thanks” out of habit. Heidi leaves to go get Vanessa some water, and it’s as if her very presence had some soothing effect. Vanessa takes a deep breath in and sweeps hair out of her face. Kameron lets go of tension in her shoulders. She kneels in front of Vanessa in her sweatpants and sandals. 

Heidi returns with a paper cup of cool water. Vanessa’s hand shakes as she takes it. She pulls it to her lips with both hands, one steadying the other. Heidi is listing off things she can get for them: “lemon throat lozenges, long expired mints, this granola bar that’s been at the bottom of the drawer so long it’s so cracked and beaten when you touch it through the wrapper it feels like sand in a plastic bag--”

Kameron and Vanessa chuckle at that, grateful for the singular smile this woman could offer. Vanessa actually looks up at Heidi’s kind face to respond. “Thanks. Truly it does sound appetizin’.”

“But it’s still a ‘no,’ right?” Heidi laughs and it feels like she’s releasing tension in both of them. 

“I think it is,” says Kameron. Her own Tennessee twang rolls out in the other woman’s presence. “But thank you for your _generous_ offer.”

Heidi giggles and Vanessa smiles. Then her face falls back to her mask of mourning. 

“When I saw you two leavin’ Dr Cox’ office,” Heidi begins. “I gotta admit it threw me when you weren’t the one cryin’.” She says to Kameron. 

Kameron shrinks a little, but nods. _I know, it isn’t my bad news this time. And I’m still so excited for twins but I’m so selfish for being happy for myself and not a hundred percent crushed for her._ Things Kameron never would actually let come out of her mouth.

“And you know,” Heidi continues. “Watchin’ the people come and go from the oncologist down the hall, I see people right after they get bad news, almost every day.” 

Kameron looks at her wife. Vanessa might be physically right in front of her, but her eyes are far far away.

“Sometimes when people get bad news, they get all huffy, they storm right on out. Sometimes they go glassy-eyed and dead silent. I worry about them drivin’ home. I think y’all did leave a car here overnight a few years back.” Kameron nods. “That was real smart. I wish more people did that.” 

The extra car ended up one of the many financial sacrifices she and Vanessa made for this dream. In Vanessa’s hand, she has started to crumple the paper cup. The water level is being pushed upwards, and will soon leak onto her hand. Kameron reaches out to touch her wife’s hand. She expects a flinch. It doesn’t come. Vanessa blinks and looks down. Kameron guides their joined hands to Vanessa’s lips. She swallows with a sigh, and when she meets Kameron’s eye again her expression is that of sheer exhaustion. 

As if the desk lady has the same thought as Kameron does, Heidi remarks “It must be exhausting, though. To go through this again and again.” 

Vanessa squeezes her eyes shut and tears leak out from between her lashes. 

Kameron eases herself back onto her feet, which tingle now, since she’s been sitting on them. She thanks Heidi, who shrugs. 

“All I did was grab a cup and push the tab on the water cooler.”

“No,” Kameron says softly. “For making us smile.” 

Heidi’s eyes are so big and so open; she genuinely didn’t consider joking around and small talk to be important or worth thanking someone for. 

Kameron looks down. Vanessa is breathing deeply, working up the strength to stand. She holds out a hand to her wife and waits for her to take it. 

Heidi takes a step back. “There anythin’ else I can getcha? Another water for the road?”

Kameron offers a small smile. “We live close by. But thank you.”

Vanessa takes Kameron’s hand. She wobbles on her feet and leans on her wife. She echoes a “Thank you” though she is unable to look Heidi in the eyes. 

“Well.” Heidi smooths her already unwrinkled skirt. “You’re welcome anytime.” 

Both parties turn to go, but when Kameron and Vanessa are a few steps away, Heidi turns around and calls “And hey!”

The wives turn their heads in unison. 

“Be kind to yourselves.”

In the car, they take a minute to breathe in the quiet. Vanessa stares at her phone. “They see I’m in the chat,” she mumbles, not having the energy to move her mouth all the way. 

Kameron understands anyway. “You don’t have to tell anyone.” 

Vanessa looks up at her. 

“We owe no one this information, until you’re good and ready to tell ‘em.” 

Vanessa covers her eyes with her hand and nods.

“And hey,” Kameron leans over the console. “When that time comes, you don’t have to be the one to do the telling, I’ll do it all, if that’s what you want.”

Vanessa pushes her phone between her thighs. “But I feel like... they knew first. And they my sisters, I feel like they deserve to know somethin’.” She says quietly, “It’s not right to go all radio silence on ‘em for no reason.”

“You have a very good reason,” Kameron points out. “But,” she says, knowing Vanessa won’t be satisfied with that. “I can call them when we get home. Them, our moms… I’ll tell ‘em the basics.” 

Vanessa looks up at her warily.

“Only what you’re comfortable sharing,” Kameron amends.

Vanessa looks down again. She holds out her hand and Kameron takes it wordlessly. A sick laugh sounds in the back of her throat. She pats the back of Kameron’s hand and shakes her head. “Congrats on the twins.”

Kameron scoffs, retreating. 

“You makin’ up for my failure right there,” says Vanessa.

“This is _not_ a failure.” Kameron feels her words take on more acid than they were meant to. She swallows back her emotions. “I mean, nothing about this is a failure on your part. Ness, look at me.” She pulls her wife’s chin up. Vanessa’s eyes are tinged with fear. Kameron doesn’t get physical. She feels badly about it but Vanessa _has_ to get how serious this is. 

“Your miscarriage. Is not. Your. Fault.” Kameron’s voice breaks. 

Vanessa’s face screws up, reddening. 

“Do you hear me?” Kameron utters, her voice thick. Vanessa leans in, throwing her arms around her wife. Her wife, who means those words from experience, who is being nothing but understanding, who gets no pleasure from watching her go through the exact thing that had caused Kameron so much suffering. 

And they weep. It’s uncomfortable over the center console, so Vanessa pulls the release lever and pushes the compartment out of the way. They hold each other there for long enough that it gets warm and sweaty, until they can’t stand it anymore. When they pull back, they take deep breaths and wipe away tears. Vanessa clears her throat. “Okay.”

Kameron nods. “Okay.”

“So.” Vanessa starts to organize her thoughts into things they need to get decided before they go home. “I think I wanna wait. On the script.” Kameron nods. Though she hated every minute of waiting for a miscarriage to actually start, it’s okay that Vanessa would rather try and let nature to take her course. Kameron will still be there. 

And she’s here now, setting up their to do list. Kameron will call Vanessa’s work first, as that office is closer to the medical center. She’ll say Vanessa needs the remainder of the week off for bereavement after a loss in the family (not untrue). She’ll call her own work to say she’ll be working from home, and she’ll go and pick up her work laptop. Finally, they’ll run by Dairy Queen on the way home, because fuck if they don’t deserve it.

When Vanessa runs in to get stuff for work, she catches the eye of the one person she least wants to right now. “AYYY VANJIE!” 

Vanessa’s heart plummets. “Hey, big Silk.” 

“Is your phone dead?” asks her friend. “How’d the appointment go.”

Vanessa swallows hard. “It went good, it went good.” She’s talking quicker than she should be and she’s still making a B line for the door when she shouts “Nothin’ to see yet just a couple o’ black’n’white beans BYE GIRL SEE YOU LATERR!” She knows that if she had stayed in that building one beat longer Silky would have started asking questions. Questions Vanessa is SO not ready to answer yet. At least Kameron’s run in goes off without a hitch. And the Oreo blizzard isn’t enough to push the grief from Vanessa’s mind, but it does bring in some momentary joy. And, like Heidi’s charisma, it’s a welcome relief to the misery that's already starting to choke her spirit.

Kameron stays true to her word. She opens the chat she has with her wife’s friends, which hasn’t been used since they brainstormed what they were going to do for Vanessa’s birthday. Again, Kameron daydreams about time travel. She rereads the message she’d typed. It basically says word-for-word what Vanessa said she was okay with. Kameron bites her lip. It still feels like she’s missing something. She looks over at where Vanessa is curled up on the couch, turned toward the TV but not paying attention to it. Kameron reaches out to curl her hand around her wife’s calf over the blanket. Vanessa looks up. Kameron offers a smile. Vanessa returns it, sadly. “What they say?”

“Haven't hit send yet,” Kameron admits. “Wanna listen and tell me what it’s missing?”

Vanessa shrugs. Kameron reads the message aloud: 

“Hey ladies, I know we were all really excited about today's sonogram, but things didn't go as planned. We got some bad news and Vanessa's going to be taking the rest of the week off to process and deal with stuff. I know that you will understand and respect her wanting some space and privacy right now. Everything is fine on my end, but we are both still going through a lot right now. Thank you ❤”

Vanessa shakes her head. “Sounds right.”

“Okay to send it?” 

Vanessa shrugs her consent and turns back to the TV, pretending to watch the interior design competition show. Kameron hits the button, hears the _whoosh_ sound effect and within seconds, six dots pop up -- three from two senders. 

Silky’s response comes through first. “Tell her we here for her whatever she needs. You too kam”

Akeria stops typing, no doubt deleting her own message, probably identical to Silky’s. Then she sends “i know she knows it already but tell her again for us.”

Vanessa squeezes her eyes closed and turns away when Kameron reads the messages aloud. She reaches down and squeezes Vanessa’s thigh over the blanket. Grabs the tissue box from the side table and pulls out a sheet. Vanessa takes it. She’s still hiding her face when she croaks, “Thank ‘em for me.”

Kameron suppresses the urge to sweep her wife’s hair out of her face, let her see. On some level it still hurts to have her wife hide from her. But she knows she can’t blame Vanessa for that. She clears her throat. “Of course.”

She asks Vanessa if she needs anything else. Vanessa says no. Kameron gets her more ice for her water anyway. Throws out the remainder of her wife’s ice cream treat. Vanessa could only bring herself to eat half of it. Kameron doesn’t blame her.

Kameron opens the inside patio door, feels fresh air on her skin again. They only got home twenty minutes ago max, but she has felt every second passing, and suspects the same of her wife. That, or she feels time slipping by like beach sand through a funnel. Kameron casts a last glance back to Vanessa curled up on the couch. There’s nothing more she can do for her right now. Kameron checks her phone battery, hoping for a reason to delay further. But she has to face this call, has to make herself have this conversation. Better in private with her mom than in front of Vanessa at grief therapy. The screen door creaks as Kameron slides it open. She steps outside.

Vicky picks up after one ring. “Kameron!” she says in that controlled high pitch whisper that her daughter has come to expect whenever she dodges her mother’s calls. 

“Hey Mom.” Kameron feels heavy when she plops down on the bench. 

The heavy must come out in her voice too, because Vicky drops whatever frustration she’d previously had. “What’s wrong, what happened?”

“Well.” Kameron feels her throat closing up. She leans down to recline on the bench, let herself stare at the ceiling. “Which d’you want first: good news or bad news?”

“Always take the bad news first.” Her mom’s voice is soft.

Kameron clears her throat. “So. Vanessa’s having a miscarriage.” 

“Oh, _honey…”_

“Yeah.” She rubs her thumb and index fingers over her eyes. 

“At least you know what it’s like, and she knows you’ll understand.” Vicky, ever the one to find a silver lining.

Tears spill out from the corners of Kameron’s eyes. “I think--” She gasps, having forgotten to breathe while trying not to cry. Kameron hears another sympathetic exhalation from her mom and shakes her head. “It just, it-- it’s not about me and it can’t be. I have to, to let her, process, and be there for her but--” Kameron’s voice breaks. She presses her fist to her mouth. “I can’t, it’s--”

“Calm down, Kammie, it’s all right,” Vicky soothes. “Deep breaths, my girl.”

Kameron weeps harder, just hearing her mom’s Soft Voice come out. Her mother is such a no-nonsense, tough-as-nails gal. Usually the only time Soft Vicky comes out is when she’s with the kids. Or when there’s a family tragedy. Which...

She sits upright, feet flat on the cement and tries to control her breathing like her momma said to. After a few minutes, she is able to rein it in. Her voice is deeper, scratchier afterwards. “It’s like,” she starts again. “I… try… to be here. For her. But… there’s also… this pull. That’s like-- and this _sounds._ Terrible. But.” 

Her mother’s silence urges her to continue. 

_If you push this away now, it’ll come back twice as hard,_ she reminds herself. Kameron takes a steadying breath. “There’s an urge to, like a reminder of all that grief. Like it’s calling me back. And part of me wants, maybe needs to… I dunno. It wants me to curl up in a ball and let it hit me again.”

Vicky takes in breath to speak. “I don’t think I understand.”

 _Girl, me neither._ Kameron lets out a single humorless chuckle and ends up shooting watery snot out of her right nostril. Ugh, gross,” she murmurs as she wipes her nose on her sleeve.

“What’s gross?”

“What? nothing.” Kameron stands up, takes a few steps to lean on the side of the house. Presses herself against the scratchy plaster exterior. The sun is behind a cloud but at least the sky is above her. 

“And the good news?” prompts Vicky.

“Wuh-- oh.” Kameron herself had forgotten. Now she doesn’t wanna talk about it. It feels wrong, shallow somehow to share her good news immediately after all that. 

“We got the bad news out of the way,” says Vicky. “We’re working on dealin’ with it. Think we deserve some good news after that.”

“Did you get my text earlier?” she asks.

Vicky says no, something sent but the image won’t load.

Kameron stares at the sky. Partly cloudy. California clouds look nothing like back home. She thinks she remembers what the sky looked like when she was growing up, and she misses it. “So…” her voice is small, weak. “‘Nessa’s ultrasound showed an empty sack. Mine… mine had an extra.”

“An extra what?” Vicky’s tone is genuinely confused. 

Kameron smiles. “My sonogram? When the picture loads you’ll be able to see. It’s got two sacks.”

She hears her mom gasp over the receiver.

Kameron purses her lips, trying to suppress that smile. “Baby in each one.” 

“Oh, honey that’s so exciting!” Vicky has returned to the controlled whisper. 

“I know.” Kameron’s chest is full of caged butterflies “One some level it’s also scary ‘cause multiples is always higher risk.”

 _“Kameron Leigh,_ celebrate a minute!” her mother urges, throwing out her middle name. “The Lord sends blessings to worthy followers, He’s rewarding you for all your past suffering. You stayed the path despite so many hurdles, now you will get your reward.”

Kameron looks at the ground. “I hope so.” She turns around to see the short figure of her wife, knit blanket draped around her shoulders, standing on the other side of the screen door. She can’t help but let out a little “oh!” not having expected to see Vanessa vertical so soon. She presses the phone to her chest. “D’you need something, babe?”

Vanessa slides the screen to the side. The tracks make a dry, raspy squeaking noise. Her voice is similarly faltering. “Figured some fresh air…” She tilts her head back. Her eyes are less red than before. You can still tell she’d been crying. “Who you talkin’ to?”

“Just, my mom.” Kameron flips the phone around so Vanessa can see the screen. “Wanna say hi?”

Vanessa shakes her head, as Kameron pretty much expected. She goes to sit on the bench. 

She can still hear her mother’s voice faintly. “Kammie, put me on speaker!”

She pulls the phone back to her ear. “Mom, I dunno--”

“She doesn’t wanna talk, she doesn’t need to, I just have to say somethin to my daughter-in-law.”

Kameron looks to Vanessa bashfully and passes on the message. 

Vanessa does a little eyeroll. “Fine, put ‘er on blast.”

“AM I ON SPEAKER?!”

Kameron and Vanessa both flinch away from the volume. “Yes, mom, you’re on speaker now, no need to yell.”

“Oh, sorry,” Vicky says, returning to her normal speaking voice. “Now, Vanessa, I promise to make this quick I just had to let you know that since you were so endlessly gracious with my daughter in the past, if my Kameron fails to take care of you, you need to call me and I will personally make sure that she gets her act together for you.”

Kameron hides behind her hair, smiling a combination of awkward embarrassment and relief and other emotions too big and scary to pick apart right now. All she knows is Vanessa’s half smile and telling eyebrow quirk, which tell the same thing as her words. “Aight thanks, Ma.” Vanessa juts her chin out toward Kameron. “I _will_ be takin’ you up on that.”

Vicky yells over the phone again. “I hope so!” 

Kameron’s sleep that night is fragile. Vanessa tosses and turns, pulls out her phone, gets up to drink water, grab a midnight snack. When she comes back in, she’s startled to see Kameron sitting up waiting for her, overhead light and their bedroom TV turned back on. 

“Thought you was asleep,” says Vanessa. 

Kameron shrugs. 

Vanessa pulls the covers away to get back into bed. “Did I wake you?”

Kameron shakes her head.

“You know,” says Vanessa as she wiggles back into the sheets. “I wanted to sleep so bad most of the day. Now it’s two in the mornin’ and I’m still awake.”

Kameron nods. “Well no use forcing it, is there?” she says. “Wanna play a round of cards until our eyes get tired at least?”

Vanessa agrees and Kameron pulls the old deck from her bedside drawer. The cards are slightly tacky, coated in a layer of grime from years-- hell, over a decade-- of use. She’s had this deck since college. It’s weird, how long ago that was, and it feels like a long time, but not as long as it actually is. 

Vanessa kicks Kam’s butt at rummy, hitting 250 points quicker than should be possible. Of course it didn’t help that in the second round, Vanessa went out on her first turn, putting Kameron in the negatives right out the gate. 

This early in the morning, it feels like a different world. A different country. And Vanessa is more present than she’s been all day, smirking, giggling, rubbing her continued wins in her wife’s face as if nothing bigger is going on. Vanessa’s eyes are starting to get tired, so instead of continuing their game to 500 points, they switch to Go Fish. A children’s game. Vanessa still dominates. 

_She’s more reserved now though, or maybe that’s just her getting sleepy,_ thinks Kameron. 

Vanessa stalls on her turn, picking at the edge of one of her cards. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“O’course.” 

“When you went in for the…” Vanessa motions with her empty hand, curled into a loose fist. “The suction… procedure… thingy.”

Kameron feels a piece of her heart sink in her chest. She had kind of been hoping Vanessa had magically forgotten her troubles. But of course not. “The D&C. Yeah?”

“Right.” Vanessa swipes some of her hair back. “Did it…” she looks down. “This gon’ sound stupid, but: did it hurt?”

“Uhm,” Kameron purses her lips. She’s had the procedure a couple times. It never takes long, and she doesn’t remember it being especially painful. She’s still trying to remember when Vanessa backtracks, thinking she’s offended her.

“Nah, nevermind, it’s a stupid thing to ask anyway it’s gotta be painful to think about I’m sorry--”

“No, it’s okay, I’m glad you asked, I'm just, trying to remember.” Kameron sets her cards face down on the duvet. 

Vanessa curls her knees to her chest. “Nah, I’m sure you don't wanna remember.”

Kameron shrugs. “It’s not bad. The procedure. It’s not _comfortable--_ ” she chuckles and catches an empathetic smile cross her wife’s lips. “D&C is actually… kinda a relief? If that makes sense, which it probably doesn’t. But…” she shakes her head, trying to find the right words. “It’s like, the worst of it is over? At that point. Like after the appointment you’d bleed a _little_ bit for a couple days and be crampy but…” She shrugs. “I guess it seems scary but it’s not really. I didn’t wanna be put under so I felt crampy when they opened my cervix, but that’s not always how they do it. Some people probably don’t feel a thing.” 

Vanessa is nodding, looking down and away. 

Kameron tilts her head. “Just out of curiosity, why the sudden interest?”

“Why _the fuck_ d’you think?” Vanessa snaps. 

Immediately, regret consumes her features; Vanessa covers her face with her hands. Kameron crawls over the pile of playing cards and wraps her arms around her wife’s shoulders. “I get it,” Kameron purrs. “The whole thing is sad and scary and confusing and I don’t want you to try and push those feelings away. Okay?”

Vanessa digs her nails into Kameron’s arms through her t-shirt. Just when it starts to actually hurt, Vanessa switches to rubbing the nail marks to soothe them. “Sorry,” murmurs Vanessa.

“Feelings are complicated,” says Kameron. “Can be hard to pin down and figure out. Sometimes it’s just easier to… not.”

Vanessa smiles sadly. “You know I… never understood why… before, when you were going through this… I know I said to your face at some point but you’d… go away. You’d be right here next to me and you’d go away, you weren’t home. And… like…” her voice tightens. 

Wordlessly, Kameron reaches out to take her hand. Vanessa sandwiches her wife’s long pale hand between her own. She pats the back of Kameron’s palm. “I get it now,” she says. “Like, I’m not goin’ anywhere, I know there’s no running from this but…” She removes a hand to press her finger against her temple. “Up here, somethin’ else can be goin’ on.” She waves her hand in the air around them. “Out here…” she shakes her head. “I don’t wanna be here. Now that sounds bad. I swear I don’t mean it like that.”

“It’s not bad.” Kameron speaks up, just to set her straight. “It’s a coping mechanism.”

“Hm,” Vanessa pouts. “Make me sound like a alcoholic.”

Kameron shakes her head, trying to recall her therapist’s sentiments at three in the morning. “Coping mechanisms, we, we develop them to help us get through rough shit. Monique could explain this better but: you get bullied, you turn shy or you turn out, make comedy a crutch. And they work, coping mechanisms help you get through the stressful situation. They’re not bad on their own.” She pauses, squeezing her wife’s hand. “The problem comes when… you rely on that crutch too much, and it actually starts to hurt you. And,” she fidgets. “The people around you.”

Vanessa squeezes back. 

Kameron clears her throat. “Staying inside your shy person shell all alone so nobody can get to know you so they can’t hurt you, ends up making it hard to form relationships when you do want them; deflecting with humor to keep from having to deal with any difficult emotions…” her voice grows quiet. “Receding into your own world to the point you start missing out on your life. And the people who love you don’t recognize you…”

Vanessa leans forward and kisses Kameron on the cheek. She leans back just enough to press their foreheads together, thumb still caressing her wife’s jaw. After a few minutes Vanessa whispers, “You wanna drop a line to miss Monique in the mornin’? See if she’s got a half hour to spare?”

Kameron smiles. “Already done. She got us in for a phone call at five.”

Vanessa glances at the clock. “Five like, two hours from now or--”

“I would _never_ schedule anything for five am.” Kameron asserts. “I’m not a monster.”

Vanessa intertwines her fingers with Kameron’s. She chews her lip. “Also…” she says. 

She stalls long enough that Kameron has to prompt her to speak again. “hm?”

“I uh.” Vanessa clears her throat. “Sometime tomorrow, would you mind… goin’ to the pharmacy?” She looks up at Kameron, almost shy. “I… I think, just to _have_ the script…” she trails off. 

Kameron presses her palm against the side of Vanessa’s neck, applying just enough pressure over her favorite spot. Vanessa lets out a barely audible whine. “I would be _more_ than happy to do that for you,” she says. “Is there anything else you want me to get, to have in the house while you recover? Popcorn, frosted animal crackers, donuts--”

Vanessa shakes her head, her eyes sagging closed. When Kameron asks if she’s sure she doesn’t want anything else, Vanessa nods sleepily. She crawls back under the covers, planting herself firmly in the middle of the bed, expecting to be cuddled. Kameron quickly gathers up the playing cards and drops them back in her bedside drawer. When she crawls back into the bed, Vanessa’s hands are grabbing at her. Kameron chuckles as she welcomes her wife into their familiar cuddle position, letting the comfort and feeling of being _home_ wash over her...

Aaaaaand she has to pee. She has to pee so bad, but she waits until Vanessa’s breathing evens out to slowly pull herself free. When she returns, Vanessa is fast asleep, face buried in Kameron’s pillow. Shaking her head, her wife manages to slip her way back into Vanessa’s arms. The way Vanessa, while still asleep, nuzzles into Kameron’s neck, only to let out a soft sigh and become motionless once more… Kameron’s heart is so full. The next few days are gonna be rough, but this is right now, and she doesn’t ever want this moment to end.


	5. Heart Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Kamjie discussing their first heartbreaks when they started dating.  
> In the Present Day, Vanessa is Struggling and Kameron can't help but try and cheer her up, even just for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content warning: miscarriage.** I'd call it fairly graphic, but it doesn't start until the paragraph "That evening as they get ready for bed, Vanessa admits she's been feeling some cramping." until then it's pretty soft light angsty and domestic. You are not less than for skipping the ugly part.
> 
>  _And I, I hate to see your heart break  
>  I hate to see your eyes, get darker as they close  
> But I've been there before  
> For all the air that's in your lungs  
> For all the joy that is to come  
> For all the things that you're alive to feel  
> Just let the pain remind you hearts can heal_  
> “Hate to See Your Heart Break” Paramore

“How old were you when you first got your heart broken?”

It’s been a month since Vanessa’s grand gesture at the Holiday Party, a month since she and Kameron made the choice to be Girlfriends. Properly, that is-- instead of just, looking at each other in passing around the office. Finding each other over lunch. Pairing up at the end of the week when a group of coworkers hit the bar together. They’re seated by a window in a cozy coffee shop and Vanessa is reading off a list of questions that are supposed to forge Successful Relationships. Reading ahead, a lot of this shit is pretty dark. But then, her friends know most of this info. Why keep her girlfriend in the dark?

Heh. Girlfriend. That feels weird. But in a good way.

Kameron’s brows arch and she sucks air through her teeth. “They really jump right in there, don’t they?”

Vanessa shakes her head and scrolls farther down.“You don’t gotta answer if you don’t want--”

Kameron reaches out to pull Vanessa’s phone away. Vanessa lets her, following Kameron’s hand with both of her own after she setting the phone screen-down on the table so she can’t see any incoming notifications. 

Kameron places her free hand on top of Vanessas in what her mom calls a Hand Sandwich. She smiles reflexively. “Gotta go there sometime or another,” she says softly. “What kind of heartbreak are we talking about though? When I found out santa wasn’t real, when my mom and stepdad would fight, when I first loved a girl who didn’t love me back?”

“Go with that one,” says Vanessa. “That’s a universal experience.”

Kameron smiles. “I mean so is the Santa thing.”

Vanessa shakes her head slightly. “Nah, we always knew santa was a fairytale. Single working mom just scraping by and all that.”

Kameron nods. “Even when she was single, my mom still tried to keep the magic alive for us. I couldn’t understand why Santa couldn’t get me that hundred dollar dollhouse I wanted-- he’s magic, money isn’t an issue for him, clearly.” 

Vanessa chuckles. She looks up at Kameron with understanding. The frail bluish light leaking through the window makes her eyes glisten. “Did you get it?”

Kameron leans back. “Dave broke the news; he’s our oldest brother. I started crying even though it… made sense. Like I knew in my heart santa was a lie but I couldn’t believe it anymore you know, the illusion was shattered.”

“That’s really sad.” Vanessa pouts, the image of an 8-year-old heartbroken redhead appearing in her mind’s eye. Of course, this imaginary version of Kameron has pigtails. “I wanna go hug Baby Kam now.”

Kameron chuckles. “Rest assured, Devon was there to smooth it over.”

“And Devon’s the brother we like,” checks Vanessa.

“You betcha.” Kamerons snaps, then falters. “Not that we don’t _like_ Dave, it’s just--”

Vanessa shakes her head. “Nah, I get it-- both our moms had the first kid turn out shitty, it’s fine.”

Kameron lets out a cackle and shakes her head. “We were never close,” she says in closing. “But the first time I got my heart broken by a _girl_ …”

Vanessa leans forward, lacing her fingers under her chin as she listens to Kameron talk and lets it play out in her imagination like a movie.

“I was uh… sixteen? Fifteen? No-- okay. So in this town of like 300 people, everyone was alike and nobody like me-- I mean I changed myself and how I acted to fit in though you know I kinda always felt like an outsider? I mean everybody feels like an outsider when they’re a teenager but anyway. There was this girl, a grade above me, and her name was Izzy. Uh-huh, she had bright blue hair--”

“Gay,” says Vanessa.

“Bi, but yeah, gayest kid in school,” says Kameron. “I’m still Facebook friends with her actually, she has a kid and an ex husband by now-- but in school she was the most colorful, different in a good way. Like in my hometown if you were different you were hiding but she wasn’t hiding _at all._ And I was just _fascinated_ with her. You know? I joined theater because she was in theater.”

“You were a theater kid?” Vanessa gasps. “I did _not_ peg you for one.”

Kameron tilts her head from one side to the other. “I ran tech, kept track of props. I wasn’t an _on stage_ personality.”

Vanessa nods. “Yeah, yeah that makes sense.”

“Izzy was though,” says Kameron, picking her story back up. “She never got the leading roles and I was always so pissed about it because clearly she had the talent to lead and the people in charge just wanted her to fail. And I was grumbling about it one time and she turns to me and she says kinda outta the corner of her mouth: ‘the leading lady’s a boring role. I’d rather be the bad guy and have some fun.’ And that stunned me, and made me fall in love with her all the more.”

“Obviously.” Vanessa sips her coffee. “So how’d she break your heart?”

Kameron shifts in her seat and pushes some hair behind her ear. “Well… it’s kinda embarrassing because now I know that when she was looking at me and paying special attention to me and talking about how theres nothing wrong with being different and all the best people are Different-- like, she knew I was closeted. She saw the baby gay in me and she was trying to encourage me so I could feel safe coming out. BUT I didn’t see it that way at the time.”

“You thought she was hitting on you,” Vanessa surmises.

Kameron points. “Bingo.”

Vanessa hisses. “That’s rough. So you told her?”

“Yeah, and she was like, nice about it but that didn’t make it better and I was so embarrassed and like, my mom would be like ‘what’s bothering you sweetie’ and I loved my mom-- I always have. But _of course_ I couldn't tell her, I was only out to Izzy, she was kinda the only person I could have talked to about it and I never wanted her to look at me again.” Kameron sighs. “So that was rough.”

“How’d you deal then?” asks Vanessa. She genuinely had never come across something she didn’t think she could talk to her mom about--including liking girls.

Kameron let out a breath and scratched her scalp. “Oh I was big drama queen energy. I started wearing more black, scribbled in a sketchbook, avoided her at all costs. I tried to quit drama but we had a show coming up and they kinda needed me so the drama lady said I could quit after. I didn’t quit though, Izzy grabbed me and she kinda smoothed it over and made it better and we hugged and all that.”

“Aw, that’s nice,” says Vanessa. “At least it ended on a positive note.”

Kameron nods. “We kept in touch a little. She graduated that year, moved to Nashville. I had her email address and she reported back to me telling me all about the gay clubs in the city and all the colorful and queer people there--in every sense of the word. That really gave me hope, yknow? Especially after she was gone I had a rough time. Now I know this thing about myself and nobody else can know.”

“Yeah, when _did_ you come out to your family?” asks Vanessa. “I feel like I asked before but I don’t remember.”

“Mm that’s alright,” says Kameron. “College. I came clean following the _second_ time a girl broke my heart. But that’s skipping ahead and you haven’t gone yet.”

Vanessa widens her eyes and shakes her head slightly.

“Oh come on,” Kameron says, rolling her eyes. She picks up her cup and swirls the contents like wine. “I told you mine. Spill.”

Vanessa nods and pulls the ponytail holder off her wrist. Kamerons’s brows arch at the knowledge that her girlfriend has to pull her hair up just to _talk_ about this one. She settles in for a doozy.

“I’m seventeen. Miami. I’m not really feelin’ school. I got a job. I figure out I love working. Beg my mama to let me drop out so I can work full time. At this point I’ve got a good eight months til I’m eighteen so I can’t make that call myself yet. So Mama’s like okay you start taking GED courses, you get your GED and THEN you can drop out; so I do it. But while I’m still in school I’m working in this restaurant and there's this really hot bartender. Gorgeous, I mean.”

Vanessa gestures broadly and Kameron nods, Knowing.

“We start up a rapport you know, and I’m flirtin’ and she flirts _back_ and I’d never been with—you know I’d _liked_ women but I’d never _acted_ on it so. But Nicole is into it! And she does those tricks making drinks and I’d come close to crashing into walls carrying food just staring at her performing for people. And she said she’d teach me. Never let me behind the bar ‘cause I was underage. Not like I’d never had a drink before but you know. I mention prepping for my GED and she’s like ‘oh I’ll help you study’ cause she’d been a tutor at the community college.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” Kameron purses her lips and shoots Vanessa a knowing look. 

“What,” prompts Vanessa. “She really did help people at the college—“

“Oh I don’t doubt that,” Kameron clarifies. “What I doubt is that there was much studying that went on between you two.”

Vanessa looks away and pops her tongue. “The first time. There was studying. For most of it. We met at the tutoring place at the college, so. But after that we just stayed at work late. Or uh, went to her place. You know.”

“You’re still seventeen at this point?” Kameron asks with an arched brow. “Your mom has no problem with you—“

“It was never _that_ late,” Vanessa says. “And we just talked and flirted and made out.”

Kameron lets her shoulders drop. “Okay, phew.”

“Anyway I passed my test and got my GED. And I turned 18 and met up with Nicole and started up doing all the things we weren't doing when we weren’t studying. Dropped out of school, felt _so_ free, like that was just such a waste of time I could be spending making coin and like, existing in the Real World.”

“I can see that,” says Kameron. “School isn't for everyone. Bet it helped that you had a hot bartender waiting for you in The Workforce.” 

Vanessa lets out a laugh. “Yeah,” she sighs. “Well obviously we ah, did not live happily ever after. Are you ready for this though?”

“So ready,” says Kameron.

Vanessa leans over the table and drops her voice to a whisper. “I go into work one day. Hostess asks me why I wasn't at The Going-Away Party.” 

Kameron is similarly hunched over the table and she can feel Vanessa’s warm breath on her face like a kiss from a ghost. Her eyes widen, anticipating the horror to come.

“I’m like ‘for who?’ And they're like: for Nicole. And I’m like _what_ and they're like: I figured you two were so close— I cut their ass off like Going Away W h e r e??”

Kameron covers her mouth with one hand and reaches out with the other. Vanessa presses her hands against Kameron’s. 

“I said _going away_ _where_ _?_ And they said.” She pauses to keep her composure. “They said: she moved to Texas. With. Her. _Boyfriend_.” 

Kameron is wide eyed and shaking her head. Shes pulling away slightly as if to stand up and leave but Vanessa holds firmly onto her hands. 

“Her _boyfriend_ , Kam. Her boyfriend that she’d had _the whole time.”_

“You’d been to her apartment before though!” says Kameron. “Didn't she have any pictures of—“

“No! No, she didn’t.” Blood has rushed to Vanessa’s cheeks. “And! She’d told me she wasn’t _on_ any social media But! I looked at our coworkers profile and Found Her, her pictures of her and her highschool sweetheart who she’d been two-timing for the past _year_. Kam, I was this close to messaging this boy, this girl, her mama, fuckin— posting it all over her wall but I had a shift to get started on so I basically stewed in it for six hours until I called Mama after work like get the wine out I need to Talk.”

“Good,” Kameron asserts. “Its really good that you were mature about it. I don’t know what I woulda done at that age but I wouldn’t have stayed for my shift to start with.”

“Yeah, well.” Vanessa shrugs. “Next thing I did was pack a bag and move to the other side of the country so I’d never have to see her ass again, so I dunno how ‘mature’ that is.”

Kameron smiles. “Well, at least it brought us together if nothing else.” She holds up her cup in a toast. 

Vanessa taps the rim of her drink against Kameron’s. “At least there’s that.”

That day, a decade ago now, they’d both experienced a fair amount of heartbreak. It’s part of life. But there’s a level of heartbreak, a level of loss that neither woman could ever have been prepared for. That no person is ever ready to endure. Because of their first experiences, Vanessa and Kameron were motivated to take new paths, to new places and meet new people. To meet each other. But what has any of _this_ brought them besides trauma and despair? 

She doesn’t bring these thoughts up with Monique over their Skype call. She reapplies her Brave Face for that. She doesn’t know why she does that, since Monique can clearly tell. But it’s not like she’s pretending it’s roses and kittens either. And making it seem like you’re not falling apart inside must be an acceptable response because Monique doesn’t call her out on it. What she does say is “It's likely that things will get more difficult to deal with emotionally from here. It may not, and whatever response you have is valid, but if it does get worse you'll tell either Kameron or me or a friend--tell somebody, and don’t keep it all inside.”

Vanessa nods and says of course she will. And it’s not a total lie. She will tell them. Eventually.

The doctor and pharmacist had both said the pill could take ‘up to a few days’ to kick in, even though it was supposed to start working ‘immediately’. Vanessa can’t help feeling like she needs to be working. She’s not miserable yet, nothing hurts, so she sits in front of her computer at the dining table, impotent. Even though she can’t get her brain into work mode, and isn’t realistically making any progress, she’s determined to get _something_ done today.

She puts off going to the bathroom, holds her bladder as long as possible out of fear for what she’ll see when she does go. 

But there’s nothing. 

At ten pm, Kameron basically drags Vanessa to bed. Vanessa feels bad about it, but when she does come to bed, she faces away from her wife. Kameron finishes her usual routine as Vanessa’s eyes are glued to her phone, her lips stuck together after so long not talking. Kameron dampens her bedside lamp and presses her hand flat against Vanessa's exposed shoulder. Vanessa reaches over and lays her own hand on top. Kameron kisses her wife’s knuckles. “I’m right here, babe,” she whispers. “Whenever you need me.”

Vanessa’s eyes are dry but she squeezes them shut anyway. “I know.”

She sleeps fitfully, drifting off only to jerk awake again. In the insufferable silence of night, Vanessa wishes she didn't have those instincts. _Why can’t you just let me fall?_

The next day Vanessa is irritable. She snaps at Kameron more than she’d like. And, infuriatingly, Kameron refuses to take the bait. Refuses to fight with her. And that pisses Vanessa off more. She punishes Kameron with the silent treatment, brushing off every offer of food, of company, of a walk to the mailbox and back. 

Kameron knows it’s not personal, knows Vanessa’s head isn't in a good place right now. But she can’t help the desire to please her, make her happy. Even though when Vanessa had bent over backwards to make Kameron less miserable, it only ended up sinking her deeper into her depression. Because she had to act thankful, had to put on the show of appreciation, and then shoulder the extra guilt of not being able to…

But this is Vanessa. And it’s her first time. And she’s refusing to eat. So, Kameron texts her sister-in-law. 

“Hey Jules, Nessa is having a rough time rn and i was thinking of those pastries at Christmastime she likes so much. Do you have the recipe or could you get it from whoever makes them? I won't be able to pull it off as good but i figure its worth a try. Lmk.”

Kameron returns to the kitchen to take stock of what ingredients they do and don’t have. She anticipates going to the store for this, which may just give Vanessa what she wants: free reign of the house. Before she goes, she stuffs a handful of dry cereal in her mouth to settle her rolling stomach. Kam pulls her thermos of green tea out of the refrigerator and takes an antacid. With a groan, she admits to herself that she has to pee _again_ before leaving for the store. At least all this has given Jiulianna time to respond. 

Jules sends a link to an article that has a close version of the recipe the Mateos use, making note of the ingredients to swap to make it more like Vanessa would remember. Kameron somewhat expected Jules to ask what was the reason Vanessa needed this treat as a pick-me-up. But, she doesn't. And for that Kam is grateful. 

As it turns out, Vanessa’s favorite treat is basically a jelly roll--just a simple sponge filled with a jam/jelly/paste (guava in this case) and rolled closed. It’s not the kind of thing Kameron has done in a long time but she’s seen _The Great British Baking Show,_ she knows how it’s supposed to go. The smell of it cooking is really nice, and Kameron is able to come sniff the oven whenever she feels a twinge of nausea. She’s made her way through half a bag of mini marshmallows by the time she realizes she let the roll overbake, and the sponge is crusty at the edges. Kameron feels ready to scream, but calms herself down enough to continue and roll the thing. It immediately starts cracking. 

She leaves the kitchen on the verge of tears and checks on Vanessa. “Just checking if there's anything you need.”

“No thanks.” Her wife’s reply is robotic. 

“Anytime.” Kameron shuts the door behind her, ready to start screaming. She texts Jules. Jules Face-Times her sister-in-law back to assess the damage. To Kameron’s unimaginable relief, Jules cries: “Oh that’s nothing mama! Just cut off the burnt stuff-- you got the vanilla cream?”

“Yes-- um.” in her excitement, Kameron cant decide to put the phone down or grab the prepared mixture to show her sister-in-law.

“Put the phone _down,_ okay?” says Jiulianna.

Kameron obeys, relieved. “Okay.”

Jules guides her through the next steps and goes out of her way to ease Kameron’s panic. “And remember as long as it tastes good that’s all that matters. If it’s cracked, so what? You dust powdered sugar and coconut over that shit.”

The laughter erodes the stress, cooling Kameron’s temperament. 

In the background Kameron can hear the sounds of children shouting and playing. Looking at the clock she realizes Jules must be picking up her kids from soccer practice around now. “Listen. You’ve got this,” Jules says. “You have the recipe, you have the ingredients, it’ll taste great. Vanessa will love it.” Just as she’s hanging up, Jules shouts “Oh wait!”

“What?” Kameron freezes, wet spatula in the air. “ What, what is it, what am I doing wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong, don’t worry. BUT I forgot to text you to tell you when you do the dusting with the coconut and powdered sugar at the end? Light on the coconut, heavy on the powdered sugar. That’s how Vanjie likes ‘em.”

Kameron laughs, relieved. “Good, cause we’re low on coconut anyway.”

Jules laughs on the other end and the sound soothes Kameron’s soul. When she hangs up she tells Kameron “Good luck, you don’t need it. I believe in you.”

Kameron can’t say anything back because she’s crying. But for an entirely different reason to ten minutes ago. 

One of the times she’d gone to check on Vanessa, she’d asked about the baking smell wafting in from the kitchen. “You’ll find out soon,” Kameron teased. 

Now Vanessa follows Kameron’s orders as she pads out of the office with her eyes on the floor. In her periphery, Vanessa can tell Kameron is standing at the kitchen island with her back turned. Vanessa is about to break the rules and look when she isn’t technically supposed to when Kameron announces “Okay!” and swivels around to face Vanessa. 

And Vanessa can’t help but smile. It’s Kameron all giddy and proud. It’s her still in her apron and isn’t that wholesome? It’s the dusty remains of flour and powdered sugar all over the countertops. And it’s the baking tray with her favorite holiday treat re-created a month and a half early, arranged on a folded up tablecloth and looking Pinterest Perfect. “Wow” she says, because it’s all she can say.

Kameron blathers about it being her first try and how Jiulianna may or may not have had to rescue her from a meltdown, but Vanessa isn’t listening. She makes her way over and picks up the closest pastelito and takes a bite. Immediately it’s on her chin and her hand and the countertop but Vanessa anticipated that-- it’s why she bent _over_ the counter to eat it. Vanessa can sense her wife waiting with bated breath for her to make a judgement, so she holds up her clean thumb as her sign of approval. 

Kameron lets out a relieved sigh. “Is it good? I only hope it’s not dry and I remember they’re supposed to be messy so I didn’t even bother cleaning the countertops before--”

Vanessa motions up and down with her hand and Kameron takes a breath. She locks eyes with her wife for what feels like the first time all day. Kameron has a shyness about her right now. She’s just trying to please. Vanessa swallows her first mouth-watering bite. “Thank you.”

Kameron looks down and twists on her feet. “You’re welcome.”

“I appreciate this, you know.” Vanessa scratches the side of her nose. “You goin’ outta your way. It means a lot.”

Kameron presses her lips together and looks back at Vanessa, and smiles. 

“What?” says Vanessa, anticipating some humble pushback. “It does, it means--”

“It’s just, you’ve got--” Kameron shakes her head and reaches her hand over the counter towards Vanessa. Her wife stills to let her dust away the powdered sugar that had made its way onto Vanessa’s face. 

Vanessa’s eyebrows raise and she leans back. “See that’s how you know it’s good.”

Kameron laughs and it’s like the sun breaking through dark clouds. For both of them. Kameron watches her wife’s face open up again, and Vanessa’s day is made. And it’s still quiet for the next few hours but the air between them is lighter. Vanessa moves her laptop back to the kitchen/dining area and they just Exist in each other's presence. She chews on pastelito and tries to work.

A few hours pass. Vanessa closes her laptop. She has this unreadable expression. 

“Is it starting?” Kameron asks for what feels like the hundredth time. 

Vanessa shakes her head. “I just…” she looks up at Kameron. “I feel so _gross_ . And it’s sad ‘cause you know I wanna swallow down this whole plate right now but I just… _cant_ imagine eating more than half o’ this right now.”

“Don’t sweat it, Chief,” Kameron consoles. “I will warn you that what you don’t eat I _will_ finish for you.” She earns a small smile from her wife, and it feels like she’s secured Vanessa’s boat to her dock. 

“You deserve it,” Vanessa says softly. 

“So do you,” Kam adds. “For the record.”

That evening as they get ready for bed, Vanessa admits she’s been feeling some cramping. However, Vanessa _hates_ using pads and especially hates that she’s wasting expensive hygiene products when she isn’t even bleeding yet. She doesn’t tell Kameron that she’s shirking hers and the pharmacist’s sage advice for her own comfort. It’s not like she’s going anywhere.

She doesn’t expect to fall asleep as soon as she does, but the next thing she knows, she’s rolling over in bed, still half-asleep, trying to get comfortable again. But when she shifts, there’s a familiar slippery feeling between her thighs, and her eyes snap open. It’s four in the morning. Her lower gut is sore with tension. And any other day she’d think it’s her period come early. But she knows better. 

Vanessa takes it very, very slow. Shifting positions, creeping to the edge of the bed. She ends up sliding out sideways, slinking out of bed facing backwards. 

Kameron’s shape in the dark is curled toward Vanessa’s empty spot, her arms folded up under her head pillow. Vanessa looks down and can already tell that there’s blood smudged on the bottom sheet. 

It doesn’t feel safe, so she penguin-waddles to the bathroom, keeping her knees clamped together. She can still feel it dripping. Her breathing is shaky when she sits down hard over the toilet. Her eyes are squeezed shut. She feels blood sticky on her thighs and _knows._ She knows, but she still can’t bear to look. 

“Ness?” 

Vanessa gasps, her eyes snapping open to see Kameron in the open doorway. _Shit, shoulda closed it,_ she thinks. But then, they hardly ever close the door anymore. And maybe she’s secretly glad Kameron’s such a light sleeper. “H-- hey,” she sighs. Her head swims and she realizes she’s been holding her breath.

“May I?” comes Kameron’s voice from the doorway. “Or would you rather be alone right now?”

A fresh flood of tears falls down Vanessa’s face. When did she start crying? She bends her head down, pulling her knees in close. Kameron is in front of her in a minute, pulling her wife’s face into her chest as she lowers herself down to sit on Vanessa’s lap. “I’m here,” she hums into Vanessa’s unwashed hair. “Just let it out, that’s okay. Cry as much as you need.” She lets out a humorless chuckle. 

Vanessa wipes her nose with Kameron’s T-shirt. Kameron reaches around to grab the box of tissues on the back of the toilet. “Here.”

“Ugh, thanks.” Vanessa grabs one right after the other. Mops up her face. 

Kameron pushes loose hair out of Vanessa’s face, tucks some baby hairs behind her ear. “Does it hurt?”

Vanessa shrugs. She looks away. “Gonna have to fill a bath of saltwater for them sheets.”

“Hm?” Kameron realizes what Vanessa’s talking about. “Oh. Well, that can wait.”

They sit in silence for another minute before Kameron asks, “D’you want me to go get some more undies? Since…”

Vanessa nods but strengthens her grip on Kameron’s waist. “Not yet.”

“Nah.” Kameron pushes some of Vanessa’s hair over her shoulder. “We’re in no rush.”

Vanessa relaxes in her wife’s arms. “Okay.”

Eventually, Vanessa lets Kameron take the soiled underwear from around her legs -- which she still can’t bear to look at -- and bring her a black pair, the kind with built in absorbance padding in the crotch. It’s the least sexy thing she owns. Fitting, since Vanessa doesn’t think she will ever feel sexy again. 

_How did Kam do this So. Many. Times?_

Kameron hands her a sanitary napkin with wings to stick on the special absorbent underwear. 

It’s getting to be dawn outside the bathroom window. “Since I doubt you’ll be sleeping again, want me to make you some toast?” Kameron suggests. “So you can take some Tylenol, get ahead of it?”

Get ahead of the hurt, Vanessa knows. She’d refilled the hot water bottle and put new batteries in the TENS unit a dozen times for Kameron. She’s been on the other side of this so often. And of course she felt the hurt whenever Kameron lost a baby, she felt the disappointment and the grief over the person she never got to meet, and never will. But never like this. 

She nods to Kameron, somewhat relieved to be alone again. 

She pulls her underwear up-- not the shorts she’d been wearing to bed, as Kameron had taken those away too-- and approaches the mirror. She looks at herself: her sleepy, swollen eyes, her bed-messed hair. Her skin has an almost greenish tint to it, despite the fact that she doesn’t feel queasy right now. She spends too long washing her hands, then gets to work at her legs with a hand towel and cold water. 

Kameron returns to the master bathroom to see Vanessa staring blankly at her reflection. She picks up a triangular piece of wheat toast and takes a bite off one of the corners. “Yeah, perfectly edible.” Kameron hums before holding the other side in front of Vanessa’s mouth. 

She opens her mouth almost robotically, lets her wife feed her. She chews slowly, mostly letting the bread liquify in her mouth. Kameron takes another bite. Again presents the other side to Vanessa. Until they make the toast disappear. Then, she gives her wife the Tylenol with a dixie cup of tap water. Vanessa takes the pills like a good little girl and forces herself to take down half of another toast triangle.

Softly, Vanessa asks, “Can I go back to bed?”

“O’course.” Kameron offers her hand. “I haven't changed the sheets, want a towel to sit on?”

Something inside Vanessa winces. On the outside, she only nods. 

They spend the morning together. Vanessa can only say that she wants Kameron to stay where she is. A breath away. Beside her, quietly. Willing to hop up and grab the hot water bottle, turn up the ceiling fan, bring crackers, dry cereal, whatever. Vanessa munches on honey nut cheerios and stares at _Murder, She Wrote_ on the TV, like staring at a book, but unable to make herself read it.Kameron will ask what’s on her mind, and she’ll just shake her head, forgetting just as soon as she starts to build the sentences to explain. 

But she’s thinking about and remembering the many times before, of Kameron in this pain. Of Kameron miles and miles away even as she held her wife’s hand. Of how she’d wished then that Kameron would invite her along on this voyage. Even if it were ugly or scary or melancholy. Vanessa wanted to be there, and she didn't like it when her wife went to a place she couldn’t follow. And now… now she’s going. And Kameron is here too. But she’s not in the same boat. It’s more like they’re travelling in the same area, toward the same goal. They’re just ships, passing in the night, still unable to fully see each other for the mist on the water.


End file.
